Midnight
by Whataman20934
Summary: A curse falls upon the fellowship, one that may bring about their premature fall (NO SLASH)
1. Moonlight

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it! 

**This is the second story in the series. The poem referred to in this story in the one in my story "Overture". It is a poem I wrote, myself. **

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Responses to the reviews for my last story:

Daphne and Moonfairy2000: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you both liked the ending! Hope you like these stories, too! :o) 

LatestSin: Thanks for the great review! I'm happy you liked the ending. Yeah, Lego didn't die. (He can't die! He's too cool!) I can say for certain that there will be at least two Lego-centered tales in this series. Hope you like it!

Lirenel: Yeah, that's the end of that story. But not my LOTR writings! :o) Thanks for the review. BTW, I looked at some of your stories, and that Warped LOTR one is very clever. :o)

Marissa and the WWP: Thanks! ::grabs goodies:: Writing fuel! Thanks for the review! As for your question, Emblethor sent himself through at that time because it would cure his horrible wound (he didn't want to die!), and he thought that he would be helping the fellowship by getting out of their hair. Emb isn't always so swift on the uptake. (Emblethor: I heard that!) As for my muses, it's an interesting tale. I tried what you suggested, and it worked quite well! I got FIVE wolves (names: Numesse, Meletya, Pinilyapio, Mornekel, and Poikagalad) but then, I found all these other critters that work as faberoo muses, too. They've asked me to update my profile with their profiles, too, so I'm adding the details in there. They're really great! They've given me a bunch of ideas so far! Thanks for the song, too. After y'all sang it for me, I went back and listened to my copy of the soundtrack. Can't decide which rendition I like better, but yours is in the lead! Those wolves have beee-yoteeful voices. :o) Thanks again for the review!   

Caitlyn: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you took the time to read my stories, and even happier that you took the time to review. I'm happy you liked The Difference, and hope you like these new stories, too! :o) 

bOOgie: Oh, happy endings are some of the best. :o) Yeah, I think the hobbits are very interesting, and they've got lots of potential. I like them all, but I seem to keep gravitating towards Pippin. Not that that's a bad thing (TOOKS ROCK! :o) ) Hehe, well, thanks again for the review, hope you like my new stories, and as for more cliffhangers etc. …count on it! :o)

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Chapter 1

'Moonlight'

"It gets worse with time…just give me what's mine…if so, you won't suffer…you will all be fine…and you will all be mine," Sam brought his hands back around from where they'd been joined behind his back, ending the poem bashfully, despite the nefarious tone of the final lines.

"You do pick the oddest things to memorize, Sam Gamgee," Merry said, looking across minimal fire at his friend, smiling teasingly.

"It's just bits and pieces I've picked up," Sam replied in a good-natured mumble, smiling back at Merry.

"Indeed," Aragorn spoke up then. "It does sound unusual, yet it also sounds useful. I would like to know where you learned it."

"I wish I could remember," Sam shrugged unobtrusively at the ranger. "But I don't. Though, it doesn't sound like anything the Gaffer would've taught me."

"That's true," Frodo added with a slight chuckle, thinking of the old hobbit, whose pearls of wisdom, while they could be considered keepsake, were none of them, as mysterious or mystical as this.

"In fact, it is a very old poem," Gandalf spoke up from his own spot. "One that I, myself learned from a text, long ago, and have not heard or thought of in a long time. Tell me, Samwise, what made you think to recite that?"

"Well," Sam's nerves reared perceptibly at Gandalf's question, as he sensed a good deal of importance riding on its answer, "I don't know, really. I suppose it's only because it sounds so much like much of our situation. You know, with the bits about returning what's his, and how he's watching, and all that."

"A keen observation," Gandalf replied. "Indeed, it would probably be a good idea to keep that particular poem in your head."

"That I will," Sam said, admiringly dutiful, as he took his seat again.

"And as that's ensured," Frodo said to Sam, "I'm sure you have many others in there, Sam. What else do you know?"

***

Aragorn lay on the ground, his cloak acting as a blanket, laying underneath the thicket that acted as a roof over the bed of dirt. He stared up at the pale yellow of the open sky above him, framed by the black outlines of the trees.

He tried shutting his eyes, but found that this was almost impossible, that they seemed to want to spring open again, as soon as he did. For some reason, sleep seemed quite far off, this particular day. 

He then realized that his lips were moving silently, mouthing familiar words.

"Beware the dark…don't sit alone…it's risk you can't afford…"

The poem, Sam's poem. An odd thing to store in the brain, to be sure, not to mention unsettling in its content. But only a poem.

And still, Aragorn found himself bothered by its memory, unable to remove all of the lines from his thoughts. It had been a queer thing to witness, back there. Sam's tone had been his own, yet the words came out chill and more meaningful than any of the other things any of them had found to recite, as a means of entertainment. And, there was his gaze. Sam had been seated next to Frodo, who had been across from Boromir, who had sat next to Aragorn. Yet, the whole time Sam was reciting the poem, he'd been looking right at Aragorn, as if telling the story to the ranger, alone.

Aragorn couldn't help but notice the way the poem seemed to speak only to one individual, telling him what would happen to him, as well as his friends if he didn't give the speaker of the poem "what's mine".

Aragorn naturally agree with Sam, on what was "mine" had to be, the burden Frodo carried. Even if it was, though, that didn't make it any easier to figure out the poem's words.

"Who says I must figure it out?" Aragorn thought to himself, clenching his teeth, forcing his lips to cease their movement. It was only a poem, an old, old poem, in prose that he could not grasp. There was no need to force himself to try, especially now, with so much else to be concerned with. Aragorn shut his eyes again, turning his head away from the glowing sky, breathing in slowly, knowing it would soon be time to move on again.

It had been a pleasant time before, being able finally to light a small fire, and finding themselves in good enough spirits to exchange rhymes and whispered songs. He should have enjoyed it, he knew. There was nothing to worry about, from it.

**********

Aragorn awoke without opening his eyes. He listened, still and silent for a moment, to the breeze of the early evening, sighing through the shrubs above him. He sighed in his turn quietly, rolling over onto his back, opening his eyes, which felt moist and sore, as if from a hard sleep. Indeed, the moment he opened them, Aragorn squeezed them shut again, thinking he hadn't opened them properly the first time, as all he saw was darkness, much too dark for this time of day.

He sat up, his eyes open for sure, gazing at the blind landscape as he climbed away from the bush. It looked like midnight. Aragorn got to his feet. How long had he been asleep? It didn't feel all that long. Why had no one woken him?

"Aragorn," Frodo's voice sounded behind him.

"What's wrong?" he turned, knowing this was no evening greeting. 

"It's been dark too long," Frodo whispered, standing before him. "I think something's wrong. Look…"

Aragorn stepped over the shrubs, quickly following Frodo out of the clearing, through the trees, where the rest of the fellowship stood, gazing through them, at something Aragorn could not see, with looks of fused confusion and apprehension.

Through the trees was darkness, yet on the other side was a small lagoon, hardly stirred by the faint wind. The area of the water was lit just slightly, with something reflecting from the pool. 

"Have a look," Gandalf said quietly.

Aragorn stepped through the trees and toward the water, though he found the sudden presence of light nerve-wracking, as if it wasn't the kind of light that was wanted.

Aragorn could see a pale globe reflected in the water, as he came close to it, the wind picking up suddenly, stirring the shining surface, swirling the circle. He stood patiently at the water's edge, looking down, waiting to get a clear view. As the waters calmed and stilled, his eyes met with a disquieting image.

He had expected to see the moon, troubled in some way, perhaps too bright, perhaps too dim, but plagued by something, itself. Yet the whitish thing he looked through the darkness of the rest of the clearing on was not the moon; it lacked the craters, the face that watched those that slept under it, and was not so gray. This was smoother, and much too intense in its reflection to be the moon. 

The sun was reflected in the darkness of the water.

***End of Part 1


	2. The Use of Light

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Sky Brooks: Thanks for the great review! I hope you like this chapter, and what's to come! :o)

Star: Hehe, thanks! I'm glad this story is holding your interest. Hope you like the rest! :o)

Marissa and the WWP: Thanks for both of the great reviews! I'm glad you liked the poem. What I did to write it was, I wrote outlines for each of the stories to come, then used those ideas for the hints here. I thought it would be useful to have a poem to tie the series together. Don't worry, you don't have to know who's reciting the poem just yet. As for who it's about, you were right in your guesses. Have you read any of the books? And thanks for the other review! I'm glad you're finding this enjoyable, if scary. Scariness is fun, no? Almost as fun as cliffhangers. (Kiela: Sarcasm? To the ice cream provider? What are you trying to do, Leafy?) Anyway, thanks again for the great reviews, hope you like this new chapter. :o)

Caitlin: Thanks for the poem review! Yeah, I wrote it myself. :o) It was fun! I'm glad you liked it. 

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Chapter 2

'The Use of Light'

"What does this mean?" Aragorn breathed as Gandalf came up to his side, looking up into the sky, still a black void, filled not even with stars, then back at the reflection in the water. "Why can we not see the sun?"

"I don't know," Gandalf said softly. "This seems obviously like some evil magic, but I've never observed anything like this."

"But, surely there is something we can do for light?" Frodo began, stepping into the clearing, as a loud shuddering sound rose, and the trees all around it and them began to tremor violently, as if plagued by heavy footfalls. Frodo stopped dead, instinctively pulling Sting out of the sheath. He looked down at the blade, but it wasn't glowing, even faintly. It couldn't be Orcs…

Just then, the shuddering turned to a crashing and splintering, as at least a part of whatever was running through the woods came barreling through the trees at them. Four or five large, thick-limbed Orc forms appeared in the faint, faint light the reflection in the pool brought, and this was soon destroyed as one of them fell, by accident or design, into the shallow water, scrambling up and out again with a roar of fury. It raised a previously-unseen sword, whipping its head around in the dark and focusing on a short form, unfortunately close to him.

"Frodo!" Aragorn yelled, diving for the hobbit as the Orc's blade came down. He landed with him on the ground, as Merry pulled himself out from under Aragorn, frightened by the Orc and caring not to correct the mistake. 

Suddenly, more dark forms emerged from the trees, roaring as their comrades, weapons held high. Aragorn scrambled to his feet, as did Merry, and the both of them ran forward, prepared to do battle, though this proved horribly difficult, nearly impossible, as the darkness around them seemed to have gotten stronger, impregnable, and it was not without small risk to their friends that any of them fired an arrow or thrust a sword. And, even as advances became apparent to Aragorn, so did the sound of more enemies joining the fray, from all sides. How many were there? 

There was a sudden cry of pain through the darkness, distinguishable only in that the voice definitely did not belong to an Orc. The cry was returned by gladdened yells of Orcs, and what sounded like a group effort to silence the one who'd shouted.

"What's happened?" Aragorn found himself crying as he made for the noise, his sword held up in defense. He collided with the wide, heavy form of an Orc, bowling him over, toppling down on top of him. He raised the sword up, bringing it down into what he gauged to be the creature's throat, then rolled off of him, continuing towards the noise, then feeling a blade snatch and snag on his collarbone, dragging into his shoulder and knocking him off balance. He made a noise of frustrated pain, falling to the ground in surprise.

"Aragorn!" Frodo turned around and ran forward, following the shouts and snarls of the Orcs. Suddenly, as Frodo reached the fray, he felt something heavy and thick fall across the back of the top of his head, snapping it back on his neck. He gave a yelp, falling back on the ground as awareness left him.

**********

Frodo was actually glad of the lack of light as his eyes opened. The back of his head was tender and throbbing, the hard cold surface it was resting on, not helping in the least. Right then, he felt that light shining in his eyes might cause his head to split in two. Then, he remembered why there was no light.

Frodo sat up in panicked remembrance, colors dancing before his eyes and his brain pounding against his skull, in protest. Ignoring this as much as he could, he got shakily to his feet, his head almost colliding again with a small ledge above him. Frodo looked up, twisting his head away just in time, finding himself staring up at the black void of a sky. He reached up cautiously, his fingers scraping against a rocky surface. Groping along and down it, he found that he was standing next to a boulder wall, like the side of a mountain. 

"Where am I?" Frodo thought in dismay, his hands returning to his sides. He turned around, leaning against the rocky surface, gazing out at the space before him blindly. "Where are the others?"

Just then, there was a faint rustling, as of a small woodland creature, a few paces in front of him. Frodo straightened up again, snatching out his sword, which had, mercifully, remained with him, in this mysterious transit. 

"Who's there?" he cried, coming forward a step.

"Look!" a hoarse voice sounded in return, and Frodo felt a sudden prick of pain, as if a burning ember had landed and extinguished on his chest. He looked down automatically, seeing the first clear sight he'd seen since night fell, hours ago. 

He could see the fabric of his tunic, defined by the fact that his cloak was swept back from in front of him, and some light, shining underneath the fabric. He instantly reached under his collar, pulling the silver chain out, then dropping it in surprise, allowing the twisted charm hanging from it to fall back against his chest.

The Ring was glowing. It was glowing as like a piece of metal, heated, yet it was much brighter, glowing like fire as Frodo held his hand close to it. Frodo touched it hesitantly, poking it like a wounded animal that he thought might be dead. It felt warm to the touch, but still as hard as ever.

Frodo looked back up in uncertainty for whoever had spoken, and found the land in front of him suddenly illuminated, by the unexpected light source around his neck. There was a multitude of tall, thin trees, the slender bark peeling, coming off in the faint wind, tossing and fluttering to the ground. Frodo crept towards the trees, looking around for whatever could possibly have been making a rustling noise on this ground. Finding nothing, he looked back up and around, seeing only more and more of the strange trees before the mountain, nothing else. There were no bushes, no shrubs, no skittish little animals, nothing. Going off in this direction didn't seem like it would be very smart, unless he wanted to get lost. 

Frodo turned hesitantly around, coming back out of the little forest and getting a better look at the mountainous wall. It was an odd contrast to the fragile-looking trees, as the rocks looked sharp and craggy, but sturdy and crude as well. Frodo stepped back a bit again, looking upwards, hoping the Ring's light would stretch to the top of the cliff. 

It didn't. Frodo moved back until he was against the trees, and, while the light seemed to expand as he looked up, he only saw more rock, more wall, and no end to it. It seemed quite high…

"Well," he thought finally. "What does one do with rock like this? It can be scaled. It should be scaled. Perhaps, when I reach the top, I can get a better view of this place, and figure out what to do next."

So thinking, Frodo came back over to the cliff, reaching and grabbing the jutting ledge he'd almost bumped his head on earlier, hitching his foot into a crag close to the ground, and moving up, hoisting himself closer to the sky. 

**********

"Pirk! Pirk!"

The Orc turned around in irritation, sneering as he heard his name called, seeing one of his underlings run up the line, towards him. 

"What?" Pirk said. "Is there a problem? I care not if you are tired or hungry, we are not stopping now. We are going to reach--"

"It isn't that," the subordinate interrupted him, slightly goaded, but too distracted by the graveness of his news to act on it. "We've lost him."

"Lost who?" Pirk snarled instantly. "Not the _Ringbearer_?"

"Yes," the other Orc responded. "He slid off Fradol's back in the dark, without his noticing. He--"

"_What_?" Pirk roared, cutting him off. "_You lost him? How could this happen_?" he whipped out a hand blade, throwing it at the Orc, who sidestepped it, quailing at his superior's rage. "_Go and find him_!" 

**********

"Aragorn."

The ranger heard Legolas' voice, speaking in a whisper, felt the Elf's fingertips lightly graze his arm. He turned his head to the side as he sat on the ground, stirring himself, forcing his eyes open, to look again upon the darkness. He looked back in front of him, expecting to see Legolas standing before him, but saw no one and nothing, swallowed up by the same strong darkness. He turned his head to the right, following the sensation of the fingers, and saw that Legolas was sitting on the ground next to him, looking concernedly into his face. Boromir was at Legolas' other side, gazing at Aragorn with alike anxiety, peering with difficulty through the shade. Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo were nowhere to be found, as Aragorn blinked and refocused his eyes in the darkness, looking around the space, which seemed to be a forest clearing.

"What's going on?" he asked, turning back to Legolas.

"Shh!" the Elf responded frenetically, looking back suddenly towards the trees in front of them, as three bent Orcs, looking to belong to the band that had attacked them, came thundering through, to stand before the fellowship. Legolas lowered his hand from Aragorn's arm, though not fast enough to keep the foul creatures from seeing.

"Why are they not bound?" the one heading up the three demanded ferociously, glaring at Legolas, then turning to his guards.

"They are!" the one just behind him (in front of him, now) defended himself, equally hostile. "Their legs!"

Aragorn looked down as he spoke, and could just see, through the darkness, thick, black rope twisted around his ankles, tightening painfully when he tried to move his feet.

"Why not their hands?" the leader persisted, turning back rapidly and glaring at Aragorn dangerously as he moved. 

"There was not enough rope," the other Orc responded. "I told you, we don't have adequate supplies."

"They'll free themselves," the leader said, facing him and speaking through gritted teeth, trying to keep the captives from hearing.

"Not with _my_ knots," the second one said. "Frail little humans, and an Elf anyway, can't hope to undo them, especially in the _dark_." 

"Where are our friends?" Aragorn spoke up, growing tired of being an audience for this discussion. 

The Orc leader responded with a look of contempt for Aragorn's presumption to make demands, coming forward with a treacherous growl. 

"You needn't worry about that," the leader said. "Worry about yourselves. We have much--"

"Tokat! Tokat!" an Orc of large stature came barreling through the trees behind the others of his kind, just then, his rudimentary blade in his hand. "There is a problem. Come…"

He took off back through the trees, and Tokat followed him, bellowing back to the other two Orcs, the unnecessary command to make sure the prisoners remained as such. He returned quite shortly, but appeared transformed on arrival, his entire face and every feature on it, marred further by hate and fury. He charged at the three, kicking Legolas' bound legs violently out of the way as Legolas leaned in to protect Aragorn from what he knew was coming. Legolas was knocked onto his side as Tokat lunged at Aragorn, hauling him up by a fistful of the hair on his head. 

"What tricks do you think you will play?" he spat into the ranger's face. "_Where is the Ringbearer_?" 

***End of Part 2***


	3. Without Light

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for all the great reviews, everyone!

Tbiris: Thanks for the nice reviews! Yeah, the sun's not rising any time soon. :o) We're going to find out about Gandalf, not in this chapter, but shortly, and you are right about Legolas. :o) Thanks again and thanks for the help, hope you like this part!

QTpie-pippinsgurl: Thank you for the reviews! I'm happy you think this story is good (Bob: And creepy! Creepy's good! :o) ) I have a bookmark Ring, too. I bought the Frodo bookmark for it. Which one do you have? You're lucky that yours is glowing, mine hasn't done that yet. :o) Thanks again! 

Scegan: Thank you for the wonderful review, and all of the fabulous compliments about my writing style. I love to write! I hope to be published some day. :o) I hope you like this new part. Thanks again!

Love park: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like this, hope you like where we're going now. :o) (Pinilyapio: ::eyes the hot dogs hungrily:: Can I have one? Me: Pinil, don't mooch off the reviewers. There's plenty of ice cream here for you. :o) Pinilyapio: ::accepts a little hot dog from Love Park:: ::whispers to her:: Thanks!) 

Star: Thanks for the fabulous review! I'm happy you're still enjoying this, hope you like this part! :o)

Thorn Rose: Thanks for the review! Gandalf's a little busy at the moment (which we'll elaborate on in a later chapter. :o) ) and something is going to happen in regard to Frodo's safety and guiding, in this chapter. :o) Thanks again for the review, and the nice compliments!

Marissa (and Caitlyn!) : Ooh, internet problems, some of the worst. ::takes ice cream with a grin:: Thank goodness! The muses were getting hungry, esp. Mornekel. He trains the plot bunnies ::motions to crowd of chirping plot bunnies, poised and reading to spring off into this chapter:: Thanks for protecting Frodo, he's gonna need it. ::waves as Marissa rides off:: So long! Be careful! Namarie! :o)

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Chapter 3

'Without Light'

Aragorn gritted his teeth, twisting on his bound feet, as he tried to free himself from the Orc's grip. 

"Where is the Ringbearer?" the Orc persisted, flinging him to the ground, against the trunk of the tree they'd been sitting against. "I warn you, do not try to deceive me. I have my orders about how to see to you, but I'll quickly neglect them if I have to, indeed, if I _want_ to."

"I am not deceiving you," Aragorn said, looking up hatefully. "You took us, you took Frodo separately, that is all we know."

Tokat kicked Aragorn in the ribs at this, doubling him over.

"A lie!" Tokat yelled. "You know where he is! You made us lose him!"

"How could we have done that?" Legolas straightened up in his sitting position then. 

"Silence!" Tokat bellowed down at him, pulling him and Aragorn up by their hair again, as the Orc behind him grabbed Boromir up as well. "You will lead us to him!"

"We don't know where he is," Boromir panted, looking angrily at Tokat.

"He said, _silence_!" the other Orc returned, cuffing Boromir in the side of the head. "You will lead us; you will not speak."

**********

Frodo's breath hissed through his teeth in his weariness as he pulled himself up the rest of the way, collapsing onto the flat surface atop the cliff. He dragged himself up the rest of the way, so that his feet were not left dangling over the side, then lay still, regaining his breath. It had been an unanticipatedly long climb. 

He sat up again, got to his knees, and looked back over the cliff, the Ring's light illuminating the void enough to cast a vague, purplish texture of the ground below. He was quite high up now, but the view wasn't at all impressive.

It was just trees, and more trees. This rock seemed like the only unique formation for quite a distance.

Frodo dropped his hands to his knees in incensed dismay, and suddenly became aware, with the faint pressure, of something sharp digging into the part of his right leg pressed against the ground. He looked down, raising his leg automatically, spying something horrendous sticking up through the dirt. 

It was a metal spike, mostly in the ground, but sticking partially up, covered with blood that wasn't Frodo's.

Frodo gently pinched the flat sides of the spike, which rather reassembled a dragon's scale, with the whole of his hand and, pulling a face of unwilling disgust, drew it out of the ground for closer examination.

It wasn't that large, but it looked quite daunting, as Frodo released it onto its side on the ground. The Ring's light shone apathetically on it, revealing the bloody gleam, under which was black metal, and a stroke of pallid paint on the edge. Frodo bent down to examine it closer. The white paint looked like it was part of some larger illustration, as if the metal spike was just a bit of something bigger. Of what bigger thing, though, he could not think. Still, he had an adequate notion of where this metal had come from; Orcs. Orcs, probably the very Orcs that had attacked them back by the pond, had been here. Frodo looked up and around with this realization, noticing more signs as he did. The dirt all around was flattened and squished, pressed into jagged pikes by large, heavy footprints, what few scraggly shrubs survived up here had been indiscriminately eradicated, crushed and broken. 

Immediately, instinctively, Frodo reached to check Sting, but found his sheath empty, realizing with slight horror and much more dismay, that he had been robbed of his only means of defensive, on his capture. 

"Still," he thought, "I'm not captured anymore, that is somehow advantageous."

But now, here, all alone, without anyone or thing to protect himself, and Orcs about, he couldn't much see how it was.

**********

Legolas' eyelids drew closer at the far corners in a reflexive gesture as he peered into the mounting darkness. He was heading up the miserable procession, followed by Aragorn, and then Boromir, limping on the leg that had landed wrong when he'd been thrown to the ground by his Orc, who was leading a line of armed Orcs behind them. Legolas couldn't help but notice and privately fret about the truncated state of the fellowship. And, besides Frodo, the Orcs hadn't even spoken of any of the others. Perhaps they'd been killed…perhaps he, himself, and the two humans were bound to the same fate, as soon as they found Frodo, and the Orcs' need to find him was the only reason they were still alive. 

Legolas stopped suddenly at these tormenting thoughts, swaying slightly on the spot.

"Keep moving!" Tokat, suddenly, unexpectedly close, shouted, coming forward and clouting Legolas in the side of the head, toppling the unaware and distressed Elf off his feet, lodging a foul foot in his ribcage before Legolas had a chance to respond in any way other than falling and bending over.

"Stop!" Aragorn ran forward, putting himself between the two of them as Legolas sat up quickly. "He's weary. Leave him alone."

"I'm alright," Legolas said hastily, getting to his feet. His gaze shifted to Tokat, a burning, defiant hatred in his eyes. "Where are the rest of our friends?"

Tokat swung his hand to strike him again in response, but came into contact only with air as Legolas moved fast out of the way, pulling Aragorn out of trajectory as well.

"Your friends are gone, that is all," Tokat roared in fury, prying them apart with his muscular arms. "Pirk, bind their hands again!"

Pirk and his pawns grunted in obedience, one each grabbing them and turning them around, then another one pinning their arms together at the wrists, winding and tying the familiar thick rope around them.

Aragorn winced to himself as the ropes bit into him, his eyes dropping to the ground, lit only now by his developing night vision. He squinted down at the dirt, refocusing his eyes, trying to be sure of what he thought he saw a few paces in front of him, away from the cliff's edge. He chanced a look back at Legolas, to see if he saw it too, but he was looking over at Boromir, who had shifted the knee of his injured leg forward in order to get the pressure off as his Orc pressed him forward again. They were starting to move…

Aragorn looked back over the cliff, realizing that this was his only chance to act on what he saw. He looked back at Legolas again, chirping softly to get his attention. Legolas lifted his head, shifting his gaze to meet Aragorn's, which then guided him to look at the spot where the hobbit-like footprints were left in the dirt. Legolas looked at them for a brief instant, then looked back at Aragorn, nodding almost imperceptibly as his Orc shoved him suddenly forward.

"You'll get no rest," the Orc hissed, "until you find us the Ringbearer."

Aragorn dug his heels into the dirt as Pirk tried to jostle him onward.

"Move!" Pirk snapped, sounding vicious at this further resistance.

"Which way?" Aragorn asked, turning to face him. "Here, the prints diverge from each other. Look," he gestured to the ground where he'd spotted them. Pirk squinted his foul eyes down at the space.

"I see _one_ set of tracks!" he growled. "You are lying!"

"There are two," Legolas spoke up, gesturing to the ground where he stood, a few paces to Aragorn's left. 

"I don't see anything!" Tokat, behind Legolas, grunted. "Don't try to deceive us."

"We're not; they're only faint," Legolas continued, undaunted. "There are two sets here."

"We should separate," Boromir added, catching on. 

Tokat glared at him, taking a step forward, then looking back at the supposed footprints, then back at Legolas, then Aragorn, then Boromir between them, in front of him. He paused in indecision, mulling things over. _He_ couldn't see the markings, but that didn't necessarily mean that they weren't there. And if they _were_ there, then there were more possibilities about where the Ringbearer had got to. If he failed to find him…but supposing this was just a trick…this could waste a lot of time…

"We could cover more ground, in more than one group," Boromir said softly, noting the torn nature of his expression.

"Quiet!" Tokat roared, kicking his bent leg, sending Boromir crashing to the ground. He turned to Pirk, holding Aragorn back by his arms.

"If the humans want to split up so badly, then grant their wish," Tokat said. "But let's separate them as well," he added, suspicious of the agreement between the three of them. "You and Khaash take just that one along that path. We'll take this one and the Elf," he prodded Boromir with his foot as he sat up on the ground.

"Yes, sir," Pirk nodded, turning Aragorn around. "Go on, then, man. If you're so sure of this trail, lead us on."

Aragorn pursed his lips as Pirk shoved him again, trying to look back to see what was happening with Boromir, but losing sight of him and Legolas, and the other Orcs as Khaash and Pirk pulled him away.

"Watch where you're going!" Pirk exclaimed. "_You_ are leading _us_, remember."

**********

Aragorn walked on in the darkness, watching and following the dim footprints left by Frodo, Khaash and Pirk at each side of him. This wasn't exactly what he'd planned for…

He stopped then and looked back through the forest's darkness. He could vaguely see trees silhouetted against the darkness, but nothing else. Pirk and Khaash had led them far from the others now. Legolas and Boromir must have been doing a convincing job of winding an invisible trail, Aragorn thought, as Tokat and the rest of them hadn't come within sight or sound range since they'd been separated. Aragorn sped up a bit, then halted in front of Khaash and Pirk with these thoughts. Now was as good a time as any.

"What are you doing?" Pirk's voice, apparently never anything but sharp and demanding, rang out behind him. "You'd better not have lost the trail."

"I haven't," Aragorn said softly. "Only, look at this."

"What?" Pirk barked, coming around as Aragorn gestured to the nearly-lost in the dark ground. As he bent down a bit at the waist, Aragorn saw the hilt of his sword come up a bit, rising just slightly over his back. Not losing a trice, Aragorn thrust his bound hands over the handle, gripping it tightly, then utilizing his unbound feet, kicking Pirk's out from under him, landing him sorely on his stomach. Pirk let out a gasping howl of pain, momentarily debilitated as Aragorn jiggled the sword now in his hands up a bit, getting the blade between his wrists, the serrated edge against the ropes.

"No, you don't!" Khaash roared, drawing his wide sword out and running at Aragorn, swinging at him. 

Aragorn looked up quickly, jumping back, putting Pirk's fallen form between them. Khaash was not quick enough to avoid this trap, unfortunately for him, and landed sprawled in the other direction on top of Pirk, who gave another yell of pain and protest at this, reaching up and making a vicious grab for Khaash, who rolled off of him, still clutching his foul blade as he sprang to his feet again.

Aragorn was ready, though. In the instant the two had been entangled on the ground, he'd sliced the bonds away, and they now lay like curled, dark snakes on the ground at his feet. As Khaash made another run at him, Aragorn jumped back for accuracy, then thrust the blade into Khaash's throat, staggering back with the force of Khaash's charge, then ripping it out in an instant. Khaash gave a stifled shriek of agony, grasping at his throat with both hands, before he fell back on the ground, blood pouring from him. 

As he hit the ground, Pirk rose up behind him, grabbing the dying one's weapon and leaping over him at Aragorn, whipping the blade, in blind fury, at him. Aragorn ran forward now, swinging his blade under Pirk's, embedding the sword a few inches into the Orc's armor, just below his ribcage. Pirk made no sound at this, though seemed quite a lot more put out by this, seizing Aragorn's torn shoulder, digging his nails into the wound he'd received on capture, pulling him backwards and pulling the blade out of himself. Aragorn cringed with the motion, but managed to twist himself out from under Pirk's hand, bringing his sword up and catching Pirk in the face, scratching deep from the left corner of his mouth to the top of his forehead, cutting clean through his eye. Pirk bellowed as the blood began to gush from the wound, forgetting his sword and clamping his fetid hand over the eye. Aragorn froze where he was, but kept a good grip on the sword. It was odd for an Orc to become so careless at so small an injury, yet this seemed like it might do the trick. _Maybe_…

Pirk, bent over again, looked up at Aragorn hatefully as he began backing up slowly.

"Think you'll get away?" Pirk muttered as the blood ran past his hand, down his face. "Well, how do you like this? The others will know!"

With that, Pirk turned and ran off into the darkness, through the trees, back towards the clearing where Tokat had dispatched his orders.

Aragorn considered running after him, but decided against it, turning around and looking to see if the scuffle had marred Frodo's true tracks beyond recognition. He had wanted to eliminate both Khaash and Pirk, so that there would be no chance of the other Orcs coming to find him. Still, Pirk was now away from him, and blind in one eye, bleeding in the belly. Perhaps he would be slowed, and in any case, Aragorn was confident that he could complete his own task faster than that Orc could run.

Aragorn bent down, brushing the severed hand bonds out of the way, finding the last trace of one of Frodo's faint footprints in the dirt underneath it. He looked up and past it, seeing another mark left several paces ahead, through a yet-unexplored part of the forest. He straightened up, holding the Orc's sword but not really wishing to put it in the empty sheath at his side, as he set off again after Frodo. 

***End of Part 3

Author's Note: I'm sorry it took me so long to get this part up! I'm going to try to update faster from now on, for all of you wonderful readers. :o)


	4. Firelight

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for the reviews, everyone! :o)

Thorn Rose: Thanks for the review, and the compliments about my writing. That was really nice of you. I'm afraid we still don't hear from Gandalf in this chapter, but we will, soon. He hasn't disappeared! (He's too cool for that to happen! :o) ) And yeah, the orcs are now in indefinite custody of Sting and Anduril. Grrr…mean orcs…Thanks again, and hope you like Chap. 4! :o)

QTpie-pippinsgurl: Thanks for the review! Yeah, it was a choice between the one with the Ring poem on it, the one with the Ringwraiths, the one with Eowyn, and the one with Frodo, so of course I picked him. :o) Good old Frodo… I wear my Ring on a chain, b/c it's too small to fit on any finger but my pinkie. Well, thanks again for the review, hope you like this new chapter! :o)

Sky Brooks: My computer's having some ff.net problems, too. It can be reeeeeeeally frustrating, can't it? :o) Still, I hope everything's better now. Thanks for the review, and all your nice compliments! I would like to be an author someday. Thanks again! :o)

Star: Hehe, thanks for the great review! I'm trying to update faster so all you wonderful readers don't have to wait an interminably long time just to read the story. Hopefully, this'll become a habit. :o) Thanks again for the review, I'm glad you're finding it exciting. :o)

Marissa and the WWP: Thanks for the review! And thanks for the ice cream (I'm sure you know, wolves go through ice cream really fast). I'm glad the reviews are working for you. That was a great review, but I can't say much more without spoiling this chapter, which I don't wanna do. :o) So, hope you like it as much as the others so far! :o)

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Chapter 4

'Firelight'

"You look lost," one of Tokat's orcs jeered behind Legolas, as he stopped to examine the ground. "Have the tracks grown fainter?" 

"No," Legolas said simply. "I am but being cautious. I don't _want_ to get lost."

The orc growled at this, coming up beside him to look at the ground. He looked back up at Legolas, a foul smirk spreading across his face.

"I think you _are_ lost," he said softly, gladness laced into his hoarse tones. "I think hope for you is lost," he turned around, to where Tokat was waiting none too patiently with the other orcs and Boromir. "There are no tracks here," he said. "The Elf is leading us on. They both are."

"That's not true," Legolas said. "Look--,"

Suddenly, Legolas felt Tokat's leathery hand grab around the top of his head, straightening him up from his examining posture by his hair, a trick he seemed to rely quite heavily on, and even enjoy. 

"Look where, Elf?" he sneered, turning him around to face him. "Where would you like me to look?"

Legolas shut his mouth, dislike flooding into his eyes again as he looked on Tokat's intimidating form, realizing the charade was finished.

Tokat struck Legolas across the face in response to this, hard enough to spin his head, had his hair not been rooted up. He spat at Legolas, the revolting lump landing on the side of his nose, in the space between his nostril and his eye, then he clamped his free hand around Legolas' chin, digging his uneven, dirty nails into the Elf's fair face as he pulled it into alignment with his own. 

"You have been deceiving us," Tokat's voice, furious but patronizingly sadistic, was a low rumble. "You cause your own trouble. And you forget, we don't need you. We have the others," he released Legolas' face, then suddenly his fist landed hard in Legolas' stomach. He dropped the Elf, who gasped in surprise and pain, to his knees, laughing in a croaky whistle as he watched him strain for breath. "You've acted foolishly…" Tokat drew his sword, kicking Legolas again, trying to knock him onto his back or side.

Just then, a great crashing and thumping took up on the other side of the trees behind Legolas. Tokat did not shift his gaze from him, but looked like he would wait for his lackeys to figure out what was causing the noise, before slaughtering the captive Elf and man.

"T-tokat," a disagreeable, familiar voice stuttered in fatigue. Legolas turned his head in spite of himself, finding Pirk standing on the edge of the trees, his hand clamped over his lower stomach, blood dripping from a terrible scratch that ran down most of his face, including through the whole of his left eye. "The man has escaped."

Legolas looked back around quickly as he heard the dirt before him give under the pressure of something. Tokat had dropped his sword, rage in his eyes spreading across his whole face as Pirk shrank back towards the trees.

"Don't move!" Tokat bellowed, sounding as if a direct order was the only way he could begin to articulate his anger now. "How did he escape? How could you let him escape?"

"He attacked me," Pirk said shiftily, obviously trying to quell defensive anger, for his own safety. "He attacked us both. Khaash is dead--,"

"What did he attack you with that was so frightening?" Tokat interrupted him in a shout. "He had no weapons!"

"He…" Pirk winced, clamping his hand tighter over the wound in his belly, though Legolas could tell that the reaction was much more because of Tokat than because of the injury, "he took my sword. I used Khaash's after the man got him--,"

"And, where is _that_?" Tokat demanded, looking Pirk up and down for the weapon.

"I--dropped it," Pirk said, falteringly at first, then straightening up, regaining his confidence. "After he stabbed my eye. I am sorry--,"

"You _dropped_ it?" Tokat burst out. "What kind of wretched man poacher do you think you are?"

"I could not help it!" Pirk snapped, ready to show his anger now. "He cut into my face, into my eye! I couldn't see! And anyway, you know how it can go. You dropped _your_ sword!"

Tokat roared startlingly, snatching his sword up off the ground, kicking Legolas out of the way and bounding over to Pirk in two steps, snatching him by the throat and pressing him to his knees. 

"I dropped my sword for the loss of a prisoner," Tokat snarled. "Which was your doing. _You_ dropped your sword for the loss of an eye, of which you have two," he raised the sword in the familiar fashion as he spoke. 

Without a word, Tokat swung the blade downwards, slashing into the side of Pirk's neck, hewing his head off, sending it tumbling to the ground by his foot. Legolas shuddered at the brutality and the bloody cranium, turning his back on Tokat. Tokat heard the noise, turning back around, his blade fairly dripping with the red stain.

"Haven't you ever seen orc blood, Elf?" he barked. "Stand up!"

Legolas got to his feet, turning around to face Tokat, who looked rather more languid now, as if Pirk's spilled blood had extinguished his desire for anyone else's, at least momentarily.

"Folnak!" Tokat cried, looking past Legolas, to the group of orcs still surrounding Boromir, who looked pale and rattled. "Take a party from here, go and correct Pirk's mistake. The rest of you, come with me, and bring the prisoners," he smiled at Legolas, then shifted it to Boromir. "I'll bet they'd like to see their other friends again."

**********

Frodo took the chain on which the Ring hung, gingerly lifting it, so as to cast the light of the Ring up, illuminating the higher trunks of the trees that surrounded him. 

He wasn't expecting to find his friends lurking there, he just wanted to get a good view of his surroundings. Whether he liked it or not (and most likely, he did not), he was trying to track orcs, a huge pack of orcs who were holding his friends all prisoner. But he had to do this, if he wanted to find the others, he knew. He'd realized that the metal shard he'd found was property of orcs, almost certainly the same orcs that had captured Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, and Gandalf, and had tried to capture him.

Though, why had he not been captured? This question had come to Frodo some hours ago as he walked, and he was still no closer to finding an answer now. Perhaps they'd forgotten about him. But then, how had he ended up at the base of a cliff? Perhaps he hadn't been forgotten, but rather, protected. Protected by whom, though, he couldn't fathom.

Frodo let out a slight sigh, releasing the chain, letting the Ring drop back against his chest, looking out to the expanse of woods in front of him. Not only could he see no signs of his friends there, he could see no signs of the orcs, either. He'd lost the trail.

"Trust me to lose a pack of great galloping orcs," Frodo thought, dismay returning as his gaze roved back and forth over the horizon. "_Now_ what am I to do?"

He turned around, looking back at the trail he'd been walking, seeing only his footprints in the dirt. What had he been following?

There was a sudden odd chirping, far before him. Frodo's head snapped back around, and he spotted, as if for the first time, faint light, flickering like flame. He moved toward it cautiously, guarding any reaction he might yet have. He didn't know what the light was, or who was causing it. 

It became apparent that he'd never know the answers to this, either, as the light in question vanished just as he came close enough to perhaps see what it was. Frodo froze. What had happened now? Had he been spotted?

Frodo ducked behind a cluster of trees, his breath coming quiet and low, from his nerves, and for better listening. He waited in silence for a moment, then the sound of feet skimming the ground ahead reached his ears. Frodo leaned out a bit, slipping the chain of the Ring under his tunic, so that the light didn't seep out from behind the trees, and into the line of vision of who- or whatever was making the noise.

There was more quiet shuffling from the clearing then, and a coarse voice spoke up in a coarser language. Frodo breathed in sharply. _Orcs_…

Another voice, similar to the first, answered, speaking irritably as a slight scraping sound began. Frodo saw a few sparks flash from the spot, illuminating loutish blackened hands, and Frodo could see that the orcs (there were two of them) were trying to light (or probably, relight) a torch. As the repeated failed attempts mounted, the irritated rambling from the one grew louder, and was ended abruptly by a wordless exclamation of anger and frustration. Frodo ducked fearfully back out of sight. They must have seen him now…

Frodo got silently to his feet, not straightening up completely as he prepared to run. The shout of annoyance was met with vague mumbling from the other participant, then they went silent again, as the relighting scratch came through the air. Frodo furrowed his brow in confusion. Apparently, they hadn't noticed him. 

Not wishing to test his luck further, Frodo turned and made his way swiftly back through the trees, away from the clearing and its dangerous inhabitants. 

"So I am close to the orc camp now," Frodo thought dazedly. "But I can't just charge into it right away, no weapons, no idea of what to do or what's really going on. I must think of something first, but I shan't go far."

As Frodo fled farther and farther from the clearing, Bilnokh the orc cursed foully again in a voice hushed by concentration, before finally managing to force the sparks to ignite the torch. He bridled with distaste as the glittering yellow light shone on his shadowy face. He didn't like the light, and if it were up to him, he wouldn't have put it up to begin with, let alone reignite it. Still, Tokat had earlier given him his orders, to keep the clearing lit and prepared, readying it for the prisoners. And Bilnokh knew better than to disobey Tokat.

***End of Part 4 


	5. Night's Light

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for all the great reviews, everyone! :o)

Qtpie-pippinsgurl: Ooh! You're very fortunate. I've only gotten to see it once! I'm dying to see it again, though, and hopefully, I'll get to. Thanks for the review, hope you like this next chapter. :o)

Sky Brooks: Thanks for the review! :o) Thanks for pointing out my error. I should've made it clearer that the orcs around Boromir wouldn't let him move. Good for you, for spotting that! :o) Yeah, Boromir's not necessarily my favorite character, either (though he's not bad :o) ). Hopefully, I'll be giving him his fair share of story time, though. :o) Thanks again for the review, and the compliment about me becoming an author. ::blushing grin:: That's a really nice thing to say. :o)

Star: Hehe, thank you for the nice compliments, too. :o) If you ever want to set up an account here, I'll definitely read your writing. I just try to write a lot (so I can practice and hone my skills), myself. I'm so happy you've read my other stories. I really enjoyed writing "The Difference". :o) Thanks again for the review! :o)

Tbiris: Thanks for the review! Yes, Frodo should really stay close by. :o) Hope you like this next chapter. :o)

Mariana Nimeneth (or do you prefer Marissa and the WWP?): I like your new account name! And I've read through your profile (I'm on your fav authors list! ::thrilled smile:: ) Are you going to put some of your writing up? If you do, expect an r&r from me! :o) Thanks for the ice cream, btw. We definitely needed it. (Bob: We were down to whipped cream and sprinkles!) Thanks for the review! :o) 

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Chapter 5

'Night's Light'

Aragorn steadied himself on his heels, turning his head towards the seemingly-endless tree trunks that lay before him. Frodo's trail was not a terribly obvious one, but it was enough for him to follow.

He was beginning to worry, though. He'd been following Frodo's trail for quite a stretch of forest, and had not yet seen any surer sign of him than a footprint in the dust. Still, the length and consistency of the trail yet suggested that Frodo was alive, and making a steady trail through the woods.

Aragorn straightened up from the molded shapes he'd been examining on the ground, turned, and headed in the direction they appeared to be going. Frodo had been walking almost in a straight line. 

Coming out of the sparse portion of the forest, Aragorn was swiftly confronted with a group of clustered trees, seeming to form a great wall as far as the eye could see. How these trees lived was a mystery to the ranger on closer examination. They grew so close together that, for some of them, the force of one pressing against the other in its striving for altitude was enough to split the sides of the tree, creating wide wedges, enough for Aragorn to stick his hand inside.

Aragorn stepped back, appraising the ground around the trees. The close quarters didn't seem to let up anywhere. How had Frodo gotten through these? His trail had led right to this spot.

Aragorn's eyes shifted back to the spot in front of the trees where he'd last seen Frodo's markings. There was a bit more to them, unnoticed by him, for the first instant. They wound along the wall's base, coming into a low, small gap by the roots. Aragorn stooped to look at the crack, which was shaped like the space between the bottom of a door, and the floor. He'd seen it when he'd come close, but he'd thought it was only a shadow, it seemed so minute.

Aragorn bent closer to the dirt, looking down and seeing the scuffy footprints metamorphose as they reached the crack, broadening and joining, becoming a wrinkly expanse of lightly patted-down earth that reached the flat gap, then slid out of sight. Aragorn reached out to the breach, wondering what had happened to Frodo here. His fingers came into contact with thin, fibrous bark instead of the solid upper root he'd been expecting, and he realized then what had happened; Frodo had gotten down onto his stomach and slipped under this space, utilizing the giving portion of the bark, into whatever was beyond the trees. 

Unfortunately, Aragorn knew, his own size prevented him from following Frodo's trail in a like fashion, with or without the pliable surface of the tree. He stood up and moved back again, trying to see if he had other options. 

All that were before him were trees, thinnish, but so closely packed and deep that they could probably not be infiltrated by might alone. All the same, Aragorn lifted Pirk's sword, which he had almost forgotten was in his possession, coming forward and wedging it in a few inches, between two of the trees stuck farther out. The sword wouldn't go any farther in than halfway, though Aragorn saw that he was free to move the blade up or down as much as he could reach. He did this in an attempt to free the weapon, the blade jerking in his hand as it ran past three horizontal splits in the side of the tree on the left. As he drew the sword out, an idea for penetration came to Aragorn with such suddenness that he very nearly placed the weapon in the sheath at his side, as he became absent with the realization.

He caught himself with a slight gasp, violently whipping the blade away from that side of his belt, slinging it into the belt on the other side. As much as he detested the weapon, he knew he would need it, and he also needed both his hands for the immediate task. 

Aragorn reached up and forward, placing a hand on each side of the tree, level with a slit on both sides, in which he laid his fingers. He lifted himself up with his arms, his feet slipping and skimming at the smooth bark beneath him, before hitching in splits of their own. As he steadied himself, he found his ascent quite rapid, and he had soon moved all the way up the branchless tree, over the top of those behind it, and down one of their sides again, placing his feet gently back on level ground. 

As he turned, a faint beating reached his ears from the dark void. He drew the orc sword without hesitation, then quickly stumbled back against the tree, raising the blade up by his shoulder, to prevent the familiar halfling from running headlong into it.

Frodo let out a sharp cry of alarm as he heard Aragorn's movement, his body freezing in momentary terror. 

"Frodo--," Aragorn faltered, sure from the shape and sound that it was him, "it's alright. It's me, Aragorn."

There was a brief pause, then Aragorn noticed Frodo's hand move up towards his collar, then saw the one thing he least expected right then; light.

Frodo's face was illuminated by a soft yellow light as he drew the Ring on its chain out from under his clothes. The light seemed to brighten as he let it fall against his chest, broadcasting enough to light Aragorn's upper form as well as Frodo's. 

**********

Boromir landed on his forearms in the dirt as he was thrown to the ground of the clearing. He rolled over quickly, struggling to get to his feet. Tokat came in after him then, smirking at the injured man. He stepped forward, placing his boot on Boromir's chest, pressing him painfully back down into the dirt.

"Don't strain yourself, man," Tokat mocked. "You'll have plenty of time to rest."

Two more orcs appeared at the edge of the clearing, holding Legolas between them. They cast him down brusquely next to Boromir, but he was on his feet again in an instant, standing protectively by the man. He narrowed his eyes in disgust at Tokat before him, then quickly bent down, taking Boromir's arm and lifting him to his feet.

"Where are the others?" Legolas spoke up, turning back to face Tokat.

Tokat leaned suddenly forward, snarling through bared teeth, reaching up and snatching Legolas by the throat, pulling him away from Boromir. 

"You'd do better not to keep asking that," Tokat growled, "if you wish ever to see them again."

Legolas looked at him gravely as he spoke, refusing to react to the stalwart grip he held on his throat, or the fact that it was tightening. Boromir reached forward, awkwardly balanced on his unhurt leg, as he tried to pull Legolas back without allowing Tokat to hurt his neck further. Tokat narrowed his eyes in anger at this, reaching with his free hand for his sword at his side, still soiled with Pirk's now-dried blood.

Just then, there was a thud and a crackling as Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Gimli were shoved into the clearing from the other side, by a group of the familiar orcs. Merry landed at the front, toppling over his own feet with the push, landing on all fours, his head bent downwards. He looked up in front of him, panting in exhaustion and fear, and his eyes widened in indiscernible emotion as he caught sight of Legolas, being held by Tokat.

Tokat looked down on Merry behind Legolas, mumbling in irritation as he appraised the hobbit, and the others behind him. Tokat released Legolas, shoving him back at bit, almost making him slam against Boromir, but for his Elven reflexes. Legolas turned around quickly, catching sight of his other friends. 

"There you are, then," Tokat jeered, coming around to the other orcs. "Together again," he refocused on the orc standing just in front of him. "Where is the other one? Why did you not bring him?"

"He's where you left him," the orc replied. "And you didn't tell us to bring _him_." 

"I told you to bring the prisoners!" Tokat's anger flared up once more. "I also told you to have the clearing lit!"

"I did that!" the orc snapped in reply. "Right there--" he indicated a tree behind Tokat.

Tokat turned his head, seeing the torch tied to the tree, leaning out so as not to let the flames catch on the trunk. Though, there were no flames. The torch was unlit. Without having to move from his spot on the ground, Tokat reached over and grasped it, pulling it away from the rope, then turning back and throwing it at the orc that had spoken to him, hitting him full in the face.

"Does that look _lit_ to you?" Tokat snarled. "Go and get the other prisoner!"

"I lit it, I tell you!" the other orc bellowed.

"Never mind!" Tokat boomed in return, bringing his sword up. "Do as you are now told!"

***End of Part 5 

Author's Note: I'm so sorry I didn't update sooner! Real life intervened. I'm working on the next chapter currently though, so hopefully, that one will be up sooner. :o) Hope you all liked this part!


	6. Look Without Light

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for the great reviews, everyone! :o)

Tbiris: Yep, the orcs are going to get a little more than they bargained for, here. :o) Gimli and the other hobbits are in the clearing now, Gandalf will finally be making an appearance in this chapter. :o) Thanks for the review, hope you like this new bit!

Mariana Nimeneth: Thanks for the review! Yeah, I have a lair (where all my muses congregate and discuss future stories) ::picks up boxes of ice cream, heads towards walk-in freezer:: This is great, thanks! I never knew wolves could so love ice cream, along with bobcats, snow leopards, horses, etc. :o) I can't wait to read your stuff, as well as Caitlyn's. Will be on the lookout. Thanks again for the review!

Ellbee: Hey, thanks. :o) I'm glad you're liking this. Hope you like the next chapter. :o)

Anarril: Your first signed review? For _me? ::wipes away tears of joy:: I feel so honored! Really!! And I can't wait to read what you put up under your name. Yeah, the Ring thing is miiiiiiiiiiighty suspicious. :o) Definitely keep that in mind, as it will come into play later in this story. :o) Thanks for the great review, hope you like what's to come! :o)_

Star: Thanks for the review! A dream, huh? (Bob: Yes!! We've entered the subconscious level, too! ::does victory dance:: Kiela: ::rolls eyes, shaking head affectionately at him:: ) That's so cool! I some pretty weird dreams myself, but not half so many LOTR-related ones as I'd like.

Sky Brooks: Homework?? Nooooooo! :o) Sadly, that's pretty much what's been keeping me from updating faster (That and a slight ff.net problem last night) Still, Spring Break starts next week, so hopefully, my updates will be more frequent. :o) I'm glad you like all the stuff with light here. Believe me, we're not done with that yet. :o) Thanks again for the review, hope you like this new part! :o)

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"Retrieve us/Time decieves us/ Faith she hears us/But she doesn't listen very hard" - Trans-Siberian Orchestra, "Fate"

Chapter 6

'Look Without Light'

The other orc let out a fuming hiss, but turned and scampered away all the same, disappearing through the trees.

Legolas frowned in hostility and perplexity after the orc, then turned quickly and bent down, helping Merry to his feet. He looked into his face for an instant, then past him, at the others.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

"Silence!" Tokat shouted. "I do not wish to hear your foul voices anymore."

Boromir backed up as Tokat spoke, able as the others only to convey his hatred for Tokat, with a glare. He stopped at Legolas' side, looking down at Merry, then back at Pippin, Sam behind him, and Gimli behind him. All four of them seemed well enough intact, though it was easy to see who the "other" prisoner was, and Boromir felt that this was far more disconcerting than if anything had been physically wrong with any of them. 

The orc Tokat had fiercely commanded came barreling back into the clearing then, though it was plain that something was hindering his gait slightly, as he walked like he was pulling something rather heavy behind him.

Despite his own wounded posture, Boromir found himself trembling as Gandalf came into view.

He held his head up, his eyes squinted out at the darkness as he was dragged forward. The wizard stumbled on a leg bleeding from the ankle, and Boromir felt as if a wave of frigid water had suddenly engulfed his own body, as he saw disconcerting dark blots on the front of Gandalf's robes, near his chest, and on the side of his head, spreading into his hair. 

The hobbits let out a unisoned cry of dismay and fear as Gandalf was shoved forward, falling to his knees on the ground. One of the orcs behind them pounced on this opportunity, knocking each of them (including Gimli) smartly in the head, with his cudgel. Tokat's guttural laugh sounded again before them.

"Here he is," Tokat said. "The greatest of all of you, cut down like one of these filthy trees," he looked around at them all with his big pale eyes, the dark pupils like knifed slits in the center. "Perhaps you will now see how useless it is to pretend that you cannot help us."

"But--what do you want?" Sam whispered, hoarsely choking back tears as he looked up from Gandalf's wounded and withered form to Tokat's looming and ominous one. 

"Fool!" Tokat's laugh escalated in volume and grotesque quality at this question. "We want the Ringbearer! We want that precious little friend of yours, that you act as if you would do anything to keep from us. It is because of you we lost him, and now, _you_ will find him for us again."

Sam's eyes were wide with terror now. Gandalf was horribly wounded and practically unconscious, he didn't have his staff or any weapon of any kind. None of them did! They were all already injured and drained from the brutal ill treatment of the orcs that surrounded them, too numerous to count, and now Tokat was bellowing about forcing them to deliver Frodo to him, laboring under the impression that the fellowship had kept him from capture and were protecting him still, somehow.

"And why are you _staring_?" Tokat continued, at the prompting of Sam's prolonged overwhelmed stare. He bounded forward, snatching Sam's shoulder with a pincer-like grip, hoisting him off his knees and throwing him backwards. Sam's eyes squeezed shut in pain as he heard and felt his head crash against the trunk of a tree and the rest of his body landed limp on the dirt. He groaned, putting his hand to his head.

"Sam!" he heard a terrified voice that sounded like Merry. "Let me go! Let go of me!" he continued desperately, sounding suddenly as if he was straining against a great force.

Indeed, as Sam opened his eyes, he saw Merry trying to run to him, but hindered by the thick, bulging arms of three orcs behind him. Merry struggled violently against the arms that held his arms back and the one slung powerfully across his chest, finally kicking backwards with his feet, colliding with the shin of one of the orcs behind him. The orc yelled, more in annoyance than in pain, it sounded, pulling Merry away from the other two orcs and retaliating against him, striking him repeatedly against the top of his head as Merry thrashed in resistance and distress at the heavy blows.

Sam rose with difficulty, feeling absently for the sword that was not in its sheath, running to help Merry. Pippin ran forward in the same instant, pounding on and grabbing at the orc's arm. Legolas ran forward as the orc brought his elbow up, striking Pippin painfully in the chin, knocking his head to the side. The Elf reached up, aiming a skilled blow at the orc's ear. The enemy howled in true agony as it landed, releasing Merry as he brought one hand up to the side of his head, dropping the other down to his sheath, drawing out his sword and turning on Legolas and Pippin, kicking the latter out of the way like a rat and slashing at the face of the former. Boromir stumbled forward, grabbing the orc around the neck from behind, pulling him backwards and twisting his head to the side, snapping his thick neck in a burst of strength. All tension in the orc's unwieldy foul body vanished, and Boromir dropped the dead thing to the ground.

Tokat let out a wordless roar of rage, drawing his great bloody blade, aiming at the center of Boromir's back. Legolas was quicker than this, though, and leaped forward, pushing Boromir out of the way and moving himself out of trajectory just in time. 

Tokat didn't need to command the attack now. With a dead orc on the ground, and the enemy rising against them, the horde needed no directive. They drew their weapons and charged forward together, in a great horrible sea of blackness.

**********

"Aragorn," Frodo breathed, looking with fear, residual from the surprise, at the ranger before him. "What are you doing here? Are you alright? Where are the others?"

"I'm fine," Aragorn cut in quickly. "I separated from the others, to come find you. I--don't know where they are now," he exhaled roughly at this last statement. For a while now, he'd been fixated on finding Frodo, and nothing else. Now, with this accomplished, and Frodo's completely justified question put to him, he realized just how much danger the others were in. He hadn't even seen Gandalf, Gimli, or any of the other hobbits yet, and Legolas and Boromir's state with the orcs hadn't exactly been propitious. He looked at Frodo, who was watching him with new fear, the Ring glowing and glittering at his chest. "How did that happen?" Aragorn asked, shifting his gaze to the source of the light.

Frodo looked down hesitantly, as if he'd forgotten about the luminosity, which had to be quite bright for him, as close as he was to it.

"I don't really know," he said. "It just started glowing all on its own. And, as I know I can't just leave it anywhere, and it's the only lasting light source I've yet found, I didn't think there'd be harm in using it."

"Perhaps not now," Aragorn said. "But I don't think you should begin considering it a permanent solution to this queer absence of light. It's too dangerous…still, perhaps it's the only effective weapon we have against the orcs, at the moment."

"They seemed rather to want light, though," Frodo said softly, looking back up at him. "Just up in that clearing, there were two orcs trying to light a torch."

"What?" Aragorn looked up sharply, towards the incline in the land, coming down towards them. 

"Yes--I think that's where their camp was--but I saw no one other than the two orcs. I thought I shouldn't try to think of a solution to things so near, though. That's why I came down here," Frodo continued, sounding slightly ashamed, as if he felt he was a coward.

"You were right to," Aragorn replied vaguely, catching mostly the tone only of the end of Frodo's speech, as his mind was still mainly on the beginning of it. 

Truth be told, he wasn't having a particularly easy time of finding his way around these woods in the dark, and Frodo's claim that they were suddenly near the camp again wasn't hard to grasp. However, the reason why two orcs, or even just one, would _try_ to light a torch without the prospect of burning someone to death, rather was. Aragorn had seen that these were pure orcs, through and through. And orcs, he knew, vehemently hated sunlight, and so probably wouldn't want their workspace as well-lit as possible. Besides, they saw fine (in fact, magnificently) in the dark. They had no need for light…unless the light wasn't for them.

"Stay here," Aragorn drew Pirk's sword and bounding noiselessly past Frodo, up the slope, and in the direction that had been earlier indicated. 

He thought he might see torchlight as Frodo had described to him, and indeed, as he came up the slope, he thought he saw a pallid hue stretching into the upper portions of the trees ahead. But, as soon as he was close enough to see clearly, he saw that there was nothing but darkness and trees in front of him. He stopped short. Was this all that Frodo had meant? He couldn't even see a clearing, here. He continued on through the trees. As he ran, sounds of scuffling and disquieting gruff voices reached his ears, pressing him to move faster, the disturbance escalating with his speed.

Suddenly, his right foot came into contact with a jutting, curved thing in the dust, sending his leg off at the wrong angle, and causing him a painful fall on it. He gritted his teeth to smother a cry, though he could have shouted just as loud as he wanted, if he'd so desired, as a shrill, burbling yowl penetrated the much more muted yelpings the ranger had picked up on. Aragorn's head snapped to with the noise, which sounded like it came from an orc, and a rather put out one, at that, though he could see nothing, for the darkness in front of him, which now sat like a voluminous wall before him. 

There was a hiss of steel, as, Aragorn surmised, a blade was drawn, and in the same instant, a punt and a distressed yelp, then a cry from what sounded like Boromir, a brief struggle, and a noise that sounded like the cracking of wood. There was a heavy thud, covered by a furious bellow from Tokat (Aragorn recognized), and another sound of a sword, some scuffling, then a ringing wave of noise as many more swords were drawn, and the odd, intermittent noises were replaced by roars and screeches pounding footfalls.

Aragorn, as if coming out of a daze, pushed himself up with his arms, straightening up quickly on his throbbing, twisted leg, and ran towards the sounds, forgetting his own safety and the advantages to everyone of his not being captured, forgetting Frodo behind him, thinking only of his friends, and the battle that had erupted amidst them. 

***End of Part 6


	7. Where There Is Light

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for all the great reviews, all you wonderful people!

Tbiris: Thanks for the review, and the tip about Gandalf's ring. Yeah, he's currently unconscious, but I'll keep that in mind for future chapters. I took a look at your author's bio. I've never read Tamora Pierce, but a friend of mine is really into her writing. I'll have to take a peek at your stories. Expect an r&r from me! :o) Thanks again!

Pipsqueak: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like this so far. We're in for something _big in this chapter. :o)_

Ellbee: Thanks for the review! Yeah, cliffhanger is my middle name. (Kiela: No it's not, it's— Bob: Shh, Kiela!) I love 'em. Hope you like this chapter! :o)

Mariana Nimeneth: Thanks for the review! Of course, my muses still like you! :o) (Bob: We love you!! See?? ::jumps up and hugs Mariana:: Pinilyapio: You give us ice cream, and great reviews!! :o) ) I like you, too! I'm glad you like but don't like (I think I get what you mean there :o) ) this chapter, and hope you like this one. We'll find out about that curved thing in a later chapter. Yeah, Aragorn tripped, but you're right, it wasn't his fault!! Stupid curvy things, sticking up out of the ground all over the place! Hehe, well anyway… Thanks again for the review! Namarie!

Anarril: Aragorn should pay closer attention to dangerous curvy things on the ground, too! :o) Thanks for the review, I'm glad you liked this chapter. I'm not really sure how long this story is going to be, but probably between twelve and fifteen chapters. We have sixteen stories left after this one (Overture was the first), and they're not all going to be epic in length. The next one is actually probably going to be a stand-alone, as are some others, I'm sure. :o) But there will be a few that are as long as this. Thanks again for the review, looking forward to reading your stuff! :o)

Sky Brooks: Thanks for the review! Yeah, it would definitely be bad if Aragorn got captured again. Something big is going to happen in this chapter, though. Yeah, I'm on Spring Break now. I have a friend whose Spring Break was a couple of weeks ago! Anyway, thanks for the review, hope you like this new chapter! :o)

Star: You're lucky, I think. I love dreams, and I love LOTR ones even more. You'd think I'd have more LOTR dreams, too, seeing as it's on my mind every waking moment of the day! Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're liking this so much, and hope you continue to like it! :o)

LatestSin: That's okay! Happy to hear from you again! Thanks for the review, and the compliment. :o) You've reviewed just in time for the next chapter! Hope you like it!

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_"One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them"_

- The Lord of the Rings, J. R. R. Tolkien

Chapter 7

'Where There Is Light'

Frodo opened his mouth to protest as Aragorn ran from him, but the ranger was up and over the slope before he could speak a word.

Frodo crept up the slope, his head coming over the top just in time for him to see Aragorn's form swallowed up by the darkness as he hurried forward. Frodo scrambled over the top, straightening up and looking after him, tucking the glowing Ring away under his clothes again, for safety. He didn't want to just wait there, but he knew that, if there were orcs around, he couldn't risk being captured.

Suddenly, there was a thunderous roar, as of an orc, to Frodo's ears. There was the hiss of many blades, and much more yelling began, including the others of the fellowship, by the sound of it. Frodo gasped. They were right _there_!

**********

Sam bolted forward, crashing into an orc that sprang up before him, laughing cruelly.

"Get away!" Sam yelled desperately, clawing at the orc as it grabbed him up in one hand, raising its sword with the other.

Suddenly, Sam found himself deposited quite unexpectedly (and roughly) back to the ground, but no sooner had he realized this, then he had to relocate, scooting backwards frantically as the orc fell, a great wound in his back. Legolas stood over him, holding a soiled orc blade that he must have acquired on his own, in the fighting. Before Sam could say anything, the Elf bent swiftly down before him, taking the dead orc's sword and handing it to the hobbit, before offering him his hand. Sam stood shakily, taking the much-too-large sword.

Another throaty yell sounded just behind Legolas, and he turned quickly with the sword, meaning to keep Sam out of sight. A damp cudgel collided with Legolas' nose, knocking his upper lip sharply into his teeth, throwing his head back. With the movement, he felt another fist close around the long hair at the side of his head, yanking him clear off his feet.

"Legolas!" Sam cried, springing at the orc and slicing at his knees. His enemy howled in anger, redirecting his attention from the Elf, to the hobbit, bringing his weapon down on Sam's head, with enough pressure to break his crown, by the feel of it. Sam staggered back, wavering on his feet. As he tipped backwards in a near-faint, he suddenly felt someone catch him gently under the arms, dragging him backwards. Sam forced his eyes open, and found himself looking from below at Aragorn, whose own gaze was focused on his hostile surroundings, as he pulled Sam back, out of the fray. Aragorn moved to right a bit, and Sam suddenly found himself sitting up much straighter than he'd have liked, his back placed up against a tree. He blinked hazily as he felt Aragorn's hand against his cheek.

"Sam," the ranger's gruff voice sounded. "Sam, are you alright?" 

"Mmm," Sam mumbled, opening his eyes normally now, as the fog before his eyes began to lift. "You're here!"

Aragorn smiled weakly.

"It's alright now," he said, leaping to his feet again and turning around, pulling out a squat sword that certainly couldn't have been his own, as he ran back into the fray.

Aragorn ran lightly, trying to keep the weight off his right leg, which he was sure hadn't fared well in his fall just outside of the clearing. Suddenly, he felt a heavy weight slam against the back of it, bending it sharply again, landing him flat on his back on the ground, a looming orc over him. He rolled over to get out of the way, but was kicked back on the ground by an orc at his other side. There were orcs all around him now. Aragorn gripped Pirk's sword, lifting it just slightly and driving it across the lower legs of the orcs in front of him, scrambling to his knees, as far as he got before the hilt of a sword rammed into the side of his head, pounding sharply into his left eye. Aragorn let out a short groan of pain, clapping his hand over the eye as he got finally to his feet, lodging the blade in the center of the orc's chest, up close to his throat. The orc yelled in pain, stumbling backwards, trying to get the weapon out of him, stumbling over the body of one of his fallen comrades and falling, exactly as Aragorn had been made to moments ago. Aragorn bounded forward, standing over him, raising the sword.

"Stop, all of you!"

Aragorn looked up at once, for he recognized the voice as Tokat's. The sight he was met with was more distressing to his eyes than the sound had been to his ears. Tokat stood a few paces away, separated from the them all, blood running copiously down the side of his head and oozing from his right arm, the front of which was in full view, as it was slung in front of his chest, pinioning a struggling Frodo close to himself, lifting the poor hobbit's feet clear off the ground. The orc's face twisted into a smile as he slowly drew his filthy sword out from behind him with his other arm, sliding the blade under Frodo's chin, against his throat.

"Don't move," Tokat breathed, looking from Aragorn, to Legolas, to Boromir, back to Aragorn. "It's all finished now."

Speechless, Aragorn looked down at Frodo in Tokat's grip. What was he doing here? Why had he not stayed in the clearing? Did he not understand how dangerous it was? The hobbit wasn't looking at him, or at his captor, but was looking tentatively at the ground, trying not to bend his neck any closer to the blade, his hand drifting slowly to the collar of his shirt just under it. Aragorn cocked his head warily. 

Frodo's hand closed around something close to his collarbone, and he suddenly drew the Ring on its chain out into sight, swinging it up above the sword. Tokat roared in surprise and fury as the blazing light that shown forth flared into his eyes, unaccustomed as they were to and hateful of all light. Tokat staggered back in an effort to get the light away, momentarily unaware of what was causing the light. 

Frodo hastily drew the Ring back, allowing it to drop beneath his shirt again, as he brought his other elbow sharply back into Tokat's ribs as the orc stumbled. These forces combined sent him back onto the group with Frodo still trapped under his arm and sword, and it was only by pressing his head back into the orc's horrid chest that Frodo avoided getting his head cut off. 

Aragorn, coming to himself once more, ran forward with his sword, coming up to Tokat and bringing the blade down in the center of Tokat's upper chest, dropping to a squat at the same time. He grabbed the orc leader's sword by the very blade, prying it up a small space (as much as he could), then trying to perform the same operation on the orc's imprisoning arm, when he heard a roar behind him. The other orc, his previous enemy, was up again, and had snatched the cudgel. He came up behind Aragorn, swinging it and catching him in the back of the head, knocking him forward, pinning the turned blade between him and Frodo. Aragorn gasped in surprise, desperately wrenching the blade in a rotating motion, cutting into his fingers, but managing to flatten it between them just in time. He could hear the cudgel being swung up again behind him. Gritting his teeth, Aragorn pulled his borrowed sword out of Tokat and raised it as he turned to face the other one, catching the body of the descending club in the top of his blade, jerking it up and smashing it into his enemy's face. The orc fell back as Aragorn shot to his feet again, yanking the sword free and bringing it into the base of the orc's throat, broadening the previous wound.

An anguished cry from Frodo sounded behind Aragorn, turning him faster than if a spear had just lodged in his ribcage. Tokat was up again, the blood pouring down his chest seeming of no consequence as he backed up quickly with the sword back in place under Frodo's chin. He let out a grating laugh as he moved, heading towards the trees, but the laugh turned to a choke, and he stopped in his tracks, shuddering on the spot. He fell forward then, two familiar-looking arrows sticking out of his back. Legolas' arrows! The Elf was behind the orc, his bow in his hand. _How had he gotten it back_?

But Aragorn found no time to ask, nor Legolas to answer, as they both set themselves on Tokat's fallen form, lifting him at the side in unison, pulling Frodo out from under him. Aragorn sat him up, his hand going to the hobbit's throat, but it was devoid of any slit. Frodo's hand was up though, bleeding across the back of the knuckles, from the inside, as, Aragorn realized, he'd forced his hand between the blade and his neck, allowing the fingers to catch the brunt of the fall. 

Legolas was behind Frodo, on his knees, touching the top of the hobbit's head, his fingertips coming away darkened with blood. Aragorn looked up at this, and saw with utter horror that there was blood all over the top of Frodo's head, and running down the sides of his face.

"You're hurt!" he faltered in near-terror, reached for the apparent wound. Frodo twisted his head, moving out of the way.

"It's that orc's blood," he mumbled shakily. "Where are the others?"

Aragorn looked past Frodo, suddenly aware that the battle seemed to be over. The ground was scattered with dead, though all orcs, and there was not a living being left around them. The orcs, if there were any survivors, were gone. Aragorn looked back behind him, to the tree where he'd left Sam with Gandalf. Sam was gone. So was Gandalf. Boromir was gone, Merry and Pippin were gone, Gimli was gone, they were all gone.

***End of Part 7*** 


	8. Out of the Light

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for the reviews, everyone! :o)

Tbiris: Thanks for all the nice reviews! It appears that you have now read all of my stories. I'm so glad! I'm glad you think the story is going well, and I hope you like this new part. :o)

LatestSin: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you liked the poem. It leaves a hint for every remaining story in the TSO series. Thanks for the review on this story, too. I'm glad you're finding this exciting. :o)

Ellbee: Thanks for the review, and the compliment about the fight scene. I love writing action sequences, in case you didn't notice ;o) . They're fun! Hope you like this new part!

Mariana Nimeneth: Be careful with those muses! And watch out for Roggie! (Emblethor: ::looks at Lenablin:: Are you as lost as I am? Me: Aw, Emb, you know you love me. And your new job. He's senior chapter-title thinker-upper now.) Anywhoo, thanks for the review! We'll find out the answers to most of your questions in this chapter. Hope you like it! :o)

Anarril: Thanks for the review! I took a look at your story. (But you probably know that by now…:o) ) I'm dying for the next part of Worth of Water! I'm glad you liked the last chapter of my story, hope you like this one! :o)

Sky Brooks: Thanks for the review! I can't say much without spoiling it, so I'll just say thank you for the compliments, and I'm very honored to receive your longest review yet. :o) Hope you like this next chapter!

Europa: Sorry it took me so long to respond! Thanks for the reviews on "The Difference"! I'm glad you liked the end!

Black Hawk: Sorry it took me so long to respond to you, too. Thanks for the fabulous reviews, and I'm very honored to see that I'm on your favorite authors list. :o) I'm glad that you like my stories so much, and I loved the reviews you've given me. :o) 

Shauna: Thanks for the review! I looked at your TTT story (the one with the surprise at the beginning). It's good! Thanks again for the review, glad to hear from you again! 

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Chapter 8

'Out of the Light'

Sam stumbled back, ducking as his orc assailant swung his blade, aiming to smash into his head. Sam rolled off of his back, leaping to his feet again, looking desperately behind him for an opening in the fray.

"Stop, all of you!"

Sam felt his blood freeze as his eyes traced the sound back to the hefty orc that seemed to be the leader, clutching Frodo close to himself, holding his awful sword pressed against Frodo's throat.

"It can't be," Sam thought vaguely, halting in his breath, in horror. "It can't be…"

"Don't move," the orc panted with a grin, gazing around at them. "It's all finished now."

Suddenly, Frodo moved his arm up sharply, and there a flash of the brightest light Sam had encountered in a long time invaded his eyes. Sam yelped in surprise and alarm, stumbling back the way he had come, a few feet, completely forgetting the orc with the blade, who had been behind him just moments ago. 

The worst thing that came to him, though, was a fall, as he found, on regaining his sight, that the orc behind him had fallen flat, and blood was running out from under him. Repulsed and frightened, Sam swayed quickly off of him, onto his own stomach on the ground at the orc's side. He pressed his palms against the ground in an effort to rise, and his left one shot out from under him, slick with the blood on the ground. Sam twisted himself so that he didn't fall into the revolting pool, but found half of his face suddenly against something cold and smooth. He felt a startling prick of pain as the sharp edge dug into the corner of his lip. He raised his head quickly, blinking at the dark mass before him. _Swords_… 

There was a pile of swords on the ground there! It was a small and scattered pile, but there they were! Without another thought, Sam reached into them and gripped a hilt, and his hand brushed against something softer and not quite so cold. Something made of wood, and something a bit more like leather, tucked next to it. Sam released the sword and pulled these up into view instead. He gave a gasp. 

"Legolas!" he looked up sharply, at the Elf who stood a few paces in front of him, using a strange blade as he tried to clear the barrier of orcs between himself and where Frodo had been. Sam's face contorted in further fear and distress. "Legolas!"

Legolas looked over at him in surprise then, driving the blade through an orc's throat as he did so. Sam raised the lightweight bow in one hand, the quiver in the other, and gave them a clumsy throw, the best he could do the present circumstances. Legolas tossed the sword aside like a javelin, sticking it through another orc's eye in the process (on purpose or by luck, Sam couldn't tell), and raised his own hands, easily catching the weapons as they reached him. He stepped back, drawing his bow. Now, the stakes were even.

Sam rose, craning his neck to see past Legolas, to see what was happening to Frodo, but the darkness before him was blocked out again as a moist hand was clapped around his face.

"Legolas!" he cried out, being whisked off his feet, into the orc's captivity, his cry muffled as the hand slid down his face, pushing against his mouth.

Legolas flinched as if he heard and meant to turn back, but suddenly lunged forward, his bow drawn, distracted by something that seemed vital, for him.

"Don't bother," the orc's husky voice sounded over Sam's head, as he lifted the hobbit under his arm. "He'll be coming, too. You'll all be guests of Folnak, now."

**********

"Folnak is _dead_, you fool!"

Sam opened his eyes, turning his head in his flung-down position on the ground, unable to believe the harsh words. Two orcs stood near him, he recognized one as the one who'd snatched him up in the clearing, the other was a stranger. Sam turned his head slowly again, seeing the dark shapes of what he supposed were the others, cast down close by. Gimli, Merry, and Pippin were side-by-side, shoved against a tree, rope swathing them to the trunk, Boromir was on the ground, surrounded by three orcs, his feet tied. Gandalf was against another tree, no rope holding him in his position, and no rope appearing to be needed. Sam bit his lip in anguish. He forced his gaze back to the orcs, trying to see how many there were, and what the rest of them were doing. Five were gathered at the trees behind the first two orcs, appearing to be standing guard, and there were six more a space in front of them, looking like they were meant to guard the prisoners. Sam redirected his look as he heard the familiar voice of his orc assailant from back in the clearing, speaking up hoarsely.

"He is dead? How?"

"He was slain in the battle, we saw his body from afar. You practically _stepped_ on him, you were so close, when you fled," the other retorted.

"_Fled_?" the first one barked. "I did not flee. I brought the prisoners!"

"It matters not," the other orc snarled. "We now have what we need."

So saying, he approached Sam, hauling him up by his shoulders.

"I knew you were awake," the vicious being smiled ghoulishly at him. "And I know why you were pretending not to be."

He released one of Sam's shoulders then, and seized the hobbit's collar, ripping at the fabric of the cloak and tunic, his nails biting painfully into the skin. Sam reared back, terrified, trying to twist out of the orc's grip.

"Leave him alone!" he heard Merry's voice far to his left, then what sounded like a sharp kick. He turned his head with difficulty, managing to make out Merry doubled over against the ropes, one of the orc lackeys before him, tilting his head in spite as he looked down on the hobbit, aiming another blow. Suddenly, Boromir leaped up, kicking the ropes away from his own ankles and pulling the troublesome orc back. The three that had surrounded him sprang towards him then, two of them extricating him from the orc and another kicking his legs out from under him. Boromir gave an agonized cry as he fell in a heap on the ground, above which Sam heard a distressing snap. Boromir made a vague grab for his injured leg, looking up at the orc that had attacked him.

"That will teach you," the orc said gruffly, pulling Boromir up again and tossing him against the tree, to land in a heap on the ground at its base.

Sam gave a cry of anguish at this display, forgetting that he was in the clutches of an orc of his own, but being quickly reminded as he was thrown into the dirt.

"Silence," his captor loomed over him like a great tower, appearing as tall as the trees around them. "I don't care to hear your voice anymore. I care to have what you possess. And believe me, halfling. You don't want to keep it from me any longer," he suddenly pulled out a clean, gleaming blade, bending over Sam and bringing the blade to the side of his arm. "I've lost all patience."

**********

Aragorn gave a gasp as he stood up, his eyes frantically searching the clearing. What had become of the others? And, how could they have been taken? From what lay on the ground, it looked like they had slaughtered the lot of the orcs.

"They were just here," Legolas spoke up, suddenly on his feet and moving past Aragorn, to the edge of the clearing, stepping over a twisted dead orc's form. He crouched with his back to Aragorn, then straightened up again. He looked back at Aragorn.

"Our weapons were piled here," he said. "All of them. Sam found them first, and gave mine back to me. I thought I heard him cry out after that, but then Tokat--," he broke off, obviously not wishing to finish the sentence in front of Frodo, though the hobbit seemed to understand what had kept Legolas from interfering on Sam's behalf. He looked from Legolas, back to Aragorn.

"Can you find anything?" he asked the ranger, his eyes shifting to the landscape behind him. "Can you find their trail?"

"Perhaps," Aragorn began, turning and making his way to the other side of the trees, kicking a face-down orc out of his way as he did so.

"Aragorn!"

Aragorn turned back with the strange note of wonder in Legolas' voice. The Elf was just behind him, pulling the form of the orc further to the side, the familiar hilt of a sword coming into view. Aragorn dropped down quickly, gripping the hilt and pulling out his own sword, which felt like it was lodged in the orc's ribcage. Aragorn realized that the orc must have fallen on this sword, killing himself, and quite unintentionally keeping whoever had taken the others and what weapons of theirs that were left, from taking his sword, as well. Wiping the blade clean on the edge of his cloak, Aragorn slid the sword back into its own sheath, casting Pirk's hated sword down, once and for all. Legolas gave a slight gasp then, though it didn't seem to relate to Aragorn's actions.

"I know this one!" he said, as Aragorn looked up at him. "He was sent with a group of orcs to go and find you, after that one came back to tell the leader that you were gone."

"A group?" Aragorn repeated. "How many, did you see?"

"Perhaps twenty," Legolas said. 

"They must have come back," Frodo spoke up in anxiety, coming forward.

Aragorn straightened up again, looking at the ground leading directly from the dead orc's body. Sure enough, known jagged tracks led from the spot, appearing first to be backing up, then turning around and running normally, joined a distance farther by many other matching tracks, forming a swelling texture in the dark.

"Come!" he said, running out of the clearing.

***End of Part 8*** 


	9. Into the Light

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for the great reviews, everyone! :o)

A. Katz Omnipotent King: Clever screenname. :o) Thanks for the review, I'm glad you liked Monstrous. I took a peek at your profile. That Ridiculous Nonsense LOTR one is really funny! :o) 

Tbiris: I'll say thank you for the review, and you're welcome. Legolas got rearmed in the end of Chap. 8. Thanks for the review here, hope you like this new chapter. I know I say that every time, but I still mean it. :o) I want to keep my readers happy! I love my readers! :o) Hehe, wel anyway…

Anarril: Ooh! Ooh! You put up the next chapter of Worth of Water, I just noticed! Must print out, must read, must REVIEW!! :o) In the meantime, I took a look at that lighter fare you wrote. It's funny. I esp. like the second chapter. Thanks for the review. Just think, when the hobbits are in a tough situation, that lets them show their strength. (Kiela: Sure…when they _can_.) I hope you like Chap. 9, and I'm going to read that next chap. of Worth of Water. I'm dying to!

Vana Everyoung: Thanks for the review! That is a good way to bookmark a story! Unfortunately, this is only the second story in the TSO series, so I really can't kill Lego just now. We'd be too lonely for the next sixteen stories. :o) I'm glad you like this story, and I hope you like this next chapter. :o) 

Ellbee: Thanks for the review, and the compliments. Yeah, we are kind of stalled right now, but I'm fixing that. We have three chapters left, after this. Look for a nod to your comments on the last chapter somewhere in this chapter. :o) Thanks again! :o)

Mariana Nimeneth: Thanks for the review! (Emblethor: ::looks over his shoulder, Lenablin next to him:: We'll be back later. Can I have my sword back? I want to go hunting...) Okay, so now, you're bodyguard-less, and I have to name my own chapters! :o) Well, I hope they have fun, anyway. Thanks for the review. More ice cream would be great! Groak got a little peckish with the last chapter. :o) And here I thought he was a vegan… Well, anyway, thanks for the review, hope this new chapter is to your liking. :o)

LatestSin: Thanks for the review. Sorry it took me so long to update. Yeah, school does take up a lot of time. Plus, I have midterms to contend with now, but that's tomorrow, so hopefully, I'll get the next chap. up soon. In the meantime, I hope you like this one. :o) Thanks!

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Chapter 9

'Into the Light'

Legolas slung his bow and quiver back into position as he ran after Aragorn, keeping Frodo between them as they went. After a minute, he could make out Aragorn's form, slower than when he'd started, walking along and intently scrutinizing the ground.

"They came this way," Aragorn explained softly. "They must have been carried, for these are only--oof!"

Legolas and Frodo rushed up to Aragorn's side as the ranger sat up on the ground.

"I'm alright," he muttered, turning his head away, trying to smother discomfiture. "I just tripped," his eyes fell on a dark shape by his foot. He reached out, his fingertips gliding against a familiar surface, then withdrew his hand as if he'd received a burn. It was a root, the very same root that he had fallen on just moments ago, before he'd come to his friends' failed rescue. His hand now rested on the ground at his side, his fingers poking into the very grooves left by the fresh orc-prints. They had come this way, the way Frodo had been coming, the way Aragorn had been coming, the place they had just been. "I don't believe it," he gasped.

"What?" Legolas said.

"We were just here!" Aragorn said. "This is where I met Frodo, where we were before all of this."

"But--they came this way, didn't they?" Frodo murmured.

"Yes," Aragorn replied in frustration. "And so did we. We've been running around and around this accursed wood, but we've gotten nowhere. In this horrible darkness, nothing can be seen."

"You can see!" Legolas spoke up. "And so can I. So can Frodo. This darkness does not prevent us from _seeing_."

"Maybe not what's in front of us," Aragorn said. "But it's robbed us of foresight. What good will it do, for us to find the others again? They may be dead by now! At any rate, we'll be putting the Ring in terrible danger, and there are just the three of us, and at least twenty of them."

"We've overcome worse odds," Legolas said. 

"And we've survived thus far," Frodo added softly. "You've got your weapons back."

"But you haven't," Aragorn looked at the ground. "And you hold what needs the most protection from these orcs and their horrid darkness."

"No, I don't," Frodo said. "The orcs hold what needs the most protection, now. Did you see how close they came to the Ring, back there? They don't seem to want it."

"Of course, they do!" Aragorn said, looking back up at Frodo sharply. "They were only too slow to see what it was, with the light in their eyes."

"And there is still light," Frodo drew the chain out from under his shirt again, lighting the miserable little party. "We can still use it, and we should. It's our only means of light, and I think it's a sound one."

Aragorn frowned, looking down at the Ring, which dimmed to a comfortable level with his gaze. He knew that they shouldn't trust the Ring for anything, and yet it had merely been glowing, and for such a while, it seemed to him. 

"Besides," he thought. "What are we to do, throw it away into the woods? There is only one way for it to be destroyed, and while we take it there, why not use its power to defeat the very evil that it tries to enslave us with?"

He looked back up at Frodo, coming into clearer view as the light brightened again.

"Very well," he said.

**********

Sam cringed, moving to the side as the icy blade came to rest against his arm. The orc grabbed his other shoulder, staying his position.

"Just give me the Ring, halfling," he croaked through his wrinkled gray lips. "We'll let you all go, then."

Sam said nothing, but continued looking at the orc, in terror. He knew he could take two things for granted, right now; that telling this orc that he didn't have the Ring would do nothing to alleviate their situation, and that, even if he had the Ring, giving it to the orcs would ensure nothing but their demise. But, what could he do? He had to say something to the orc. He had to respond.

"I--," he began. "I--don't believe you."

The orc leaned in at this, snarling low under his breath. 

"And, what else can you do?" the orc said. "What else will keep you alive now?"

"I don't that _that's_ going to keep me alive," Sam replied softly, trying to sound as polite as he could, without angering the orc further. 

The brute opened his mouth, exhibiting repulsive teeth almost as gray as the lips, then shut it again, as if floored by the hobbit's unintentional audacity. 

"Well, this _certainly_ won't!" he snapped, grabbing Sam's shoulder and tossing him backwards like a knapsack again. He turned around as Sam hit the ground with soft thud, shaken but relieved to be free. The orc looked the group up and down again, his beady eyes falling suddenly on Pippin. 

"Supposing _you_ tell me…" the orc laughed raspily, coming and crouching in front of the hobbit, bringing his sword up and resting its tip against the side of the ropes. Pippin looked back, the corners of his mouth bowing downwards in his fear. There was a slight chuckle in front of him, whoever was responsible for it, blocked from view by the orc, who then turned on the spot, his blade still in place.

"Just _what_ is funny, might I ask, Naalm?" he growled.

"Nothing, Smal, sir," an orc's voice, just a bit higher than the first one's, answered. "I've just figured it out, that's all."

"Figured out what?" Smal cut him off.

"That we don't have all of them," Naalm said. "Remember the man? That isn't him," he gestured to Boromir on the ground. "And the Elf, remember him? The one that did in Tokat. He isn't here either."

"How do you know he killed Tokat?" Smal demanded. "I didn't see him fall."

"I did," Naalm replied, growing impatient. "That Elf killed him. And do you know why he killed him…? Because he was making off with a little _halfling_. Now, have you figured it out?"

Smal opened his mouth again, much as he had with Sam, but his lips curled back now, in a roar of rage, as he leaped to his feet, whipping his sword up. Pippin twisted his head hastily to the side, narrowly avoiding getting his chin scored, looking up at Smal, who had stalked back over to Sam.

"Now you _really_ have something to worry about," he said, leaning towards the hobbit, puffing his hot breath onto his face. "We have no reason to keep you…and no one will--," Smal broke off suddenly, standing up straight and looking almost thoughtfully at the trunk of the tree in front of him. A smile appeared, as if out of nowhere on the gruesome face, and he bent back down to Sam, grabbing the ropes and giving them a tug. "No, of course. Your friends will come back for you. They did before, they will again. And this time, we'll be waiting for them."

Smal released the coils, then stood again, drawing his clean sword and stepping back a few paces.

"A halfling, a man, and an Elf," he rasped. "And for the Ring. What better way to wet a blade?"

***End of Part 9***


	10. No Light at Midnight

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for all the great reviews, everyone!

Ellbee: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked the last part. Thanks for the compliments, too. I think it can hard to tell if what you're writing is scary, since you're the one writing it. Thanks for the help, and I hope you like this next part! :o)

Anarril: Thanks for the review! Paranoia, pessimism--also side effects of becoming a fanfic author, I believe, depending on the stories you write. :o) Oh! And don't forget addiction to cliffhangers, both writing and reading them! :o) I hope you like this new part, and I'm going to be putting up my review of Worth of Water chap. 2 shortly. :o) Oh yeah, and Cassia is a great author, I agree. 

Mariana Nimeneth: Yay! Thank you! ::smiles at Celeb, places a mound of chapter inklings in front of her:: Let's get to work! :o) Thank you for the review, and the ice cream! How did you know mint chocolate chip was Meletya's favorite? :o) I like Boromir, too, btw. :o) Thanks again for the review, hope you like this next part! :o)

The Oboist's Apprentice: Thanks for the review! Yeah, I've been listening more in-depth to the album, and they really go nicely together. Have you ever heard of a group called Mostly Autumn? They actually have an album that's a tribute to Lord of the Rings (the books, not the movies). I'm trying to extend these chapters, as they do seem to have gotten rather short, and I like Boromir, so hopefully, I'll be getting more of him in, at least in this whole series. As for the names, I just make them up. I've visited a few online sources on Elvish and Black Speech, trying to get the patterns and sounds correct, but the names probably don't even translate. 

LatestSin: Thanks for the great review! Ah, summer…::gazes wistfully out the window:: :o) I'm going to try to update faster, as we've only just begun this series, and we've got a ways to go yet. :o) In the series, not this story. Thanks again for the review, hope you like this chapter! :o)

Tbiris: LOL. Thanks for the review! Thinking orcs...(Smal: My head hurts! From thinking too much!) :o) Hope you like this new chapter! :o) 

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Chapter 10

'No Light at Midnight'

Aragorn blew his breath out slowly and silently through his teeth as he moved along the ground, the tracks now growing so bold in the dirt that he barely needed to bow his head to see them. Frodo came up beside him.

"How far did they get?" he asked, mostly rhetorically, as he probably didn't think the ranger could tell that.

"I'm not sure," Aragorn answered anyway. "They can't have gotten much farther," he turned to look at Frodo, and his gaze shifted down to the Ring, flickering enticingly at the hobbit's chest. "When did that actually start, Frodo?"

Frodo frowned, looking down worriedly.

"Just a bit after I woke up at the bottom of the cliff," he said. "Not far from where we found each other again. It was odd…" he trailed off for a moment, remembering. "I thought I heard something, someone coming towards me--I called out, and I heard someone answer, and some rustling noises, but I could find no one, and then the Ring started glowing. I saw the mountain then, and I could only think to climb it."

"You didn't see who answered you?" Aragorn said.

"No," Frodo shook his head, looking back in front of him.

"What was said?"

"He said--'look'. It sounded like a man, anyway, though I can't really even be sure of that, as that's all he said," Frodo continued softly.

"But you couldn't find him? Did that not trouble you?" Aragorn looked with concern and confusion at Frodo.

"Well, it did, of course," Frodo said softly. "But I couldn't really think what to do, at the time. I was distracted by the Ring then."

Aragorn made a quiet sound of suspicious agreement. Frodo looked back at him.

"Do you think that was on purpose?" the hobbit whispered, scanning the ranger's face in the darkness.

"I don't know," Aragorn said. "But it doesn't sound--,"

"I don't really think I'm in any danger," Frodo said suddenly. "It honestly seems like I've been kept out of danger up to now, through power other than our own."

Aragorn furrowed his brow.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Frodo said hesitantly, "it just seems like I've been rather fortunate since this darkness started. I evaded the orcs, and I don't even know how, and when I was wandering alone, as turned out, I was always so close to them, but they never found me. And even just back there," he gestured in the direction of the far-away clearing, "that orc had me, and he was so close to succeeding, but still, he failed."

Aragorn turned and studied the hobbit as he walked. 

"Who do you think is protecting you?" he asked softly.

Frodo looked at him and opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a startling shriek behind him, and a familiar hiss, then more screaming. He and Aragorn stopped on the spot and spun around in unison. At the edge of the trees just behind Aragorn, lay an orc, one of Legolas' arrows lodged in his eye. He was yelping in agony, grabbing at the shaft, but he slumped down on the ground, going limp, losing his grip on the arrow, as Aragorn looked. The ranger quickly refocused on Legolas, who was on the spot where he'd been whilst walking, though now he stood rigid, his bow loaded and ready again, pointing towards the trees from which the orc had obviously come.

"Legolas," Aragorn said, his breath coming back. "What h--,"

Suddenly, there was a thunderous crash, and the capacious form of another orc came barreling through the close trees at the other side of them, blocking the Elf from view, as the swish of metal was heard, and the glint of a clean orc blade was seen in the dimness. 

"Legolas!" Aragorn shouted, drawing his own sword and running forward, swiping the blade through the back of the orc's neck. He caught it by its vile armor as it stumbled forward, howling with surprise at the attack, and slung the orc's body backwards, rather than let it fall into the Elf, whose bow was still drawn, and who was jumping back for accuracy now.

"Look out!" he cried, and Aragorn turned again, an awful tearing noise reaching his ears. A swarm of orcs came trampling through the underbrush, crushing and crunching the bushes and trees around them. Aragorn ducked as an orc ran at him, its blade held high. Aragorn felt something zip past the top of his head, and an arrow appeared in the center of the orc's upper chest. The ranger turned quickly, spotting Legolas just as a big orc, the biggest Aragorn had yet seen, rushed at the Elf, grabbing him off the ground without warning and flinging him at the trees behind him. The thin trunk of the tree shuddered with the force as Legolas landed at the base of it, struggling instantly to right himself as the orc came forward again, drawing his formidable blade and planting it in Legolas' upper leg.

Aragorn let out a roar of rage, seeing the Elf's face alter in agony, and ran at the orc, who was just as quick, and turned, cuffing Aragorn across the face and dragging his blade up again, ready to widen Aragorn's previous wound. 

Aragorn staggered back with the blow, bringing his head up in time to see the sullied blade, and bring his own up to match it. The orc was strong, and Aragorn's arm quivered for an instant as they locked blades, but he regained himself, pushing himself up more forcefully in contest. Suddenly, Legolas' slight (in comparison) form sprang up behind the orc, slinging his bow up and over the orc's head, digging the wood of the body into his vile neck. Legolas dragged him back towards the tree, pulling the gagging orc off his feet, and the sword away from Aragorn's. With one arm still securing the bow in place, in a mysterious manner that Aragorn suspected only an Elf was capable of, Legolas grabbed the orc's blade, brought it in front of the creature's chest, and as the orc thrashed in anger, reaching up and clawing at Elf, trying to release himself, brought it down into his chest, Aragorn coming forward and helping in the effort with his own sword, as this orc seemed to need a bit more than the others.

"No!" Frodo's terrified voice sounded behind them just then. 

Aragorn whipped around, spotting Frodo, the orc sword he had unwillingly taken for protection before they'd gone farther from the clearing of the first battle, in his hand. It was fairly dripping with blood, but was snatched from his grip as a toughened orc hand had wrapped around it and yanked it from his grip. This wasn't the reason for Frodo's exclamation, though, Aragorn could plainly see. Two orcs had set themselves on him, one of them having picked him up, and holding him off the ground, the other grabbing at the collar of Frodo's shirt, under which Frodo seemed to have slipped the glowing Ring again. Frodo struggled desperately, kicking out his feet at the orc, but the beast had positioned himself too far for it to do anything.

Aragorn ran forward, grabbing the orc searching for the Ring, drawing his sword back to stab into his throat, when he suddenly felt a crushing weight drop over his head and wrap around his neck. He was dragged back in a chokehold and flung against the familiar trees, next to the sizeable orc he and Legolas had just killed. The one holding him let go in this distracting instant, scrambling around in front of him before he could react, hastily but effectively encircling the ranger's feet with the familiar rope, as he fixed his own foot on them to keep them in place. The orc brought the remainder of the rope up to his mouth, biting it off and reaching forward, snatching one of Aragorn's wrists as Aragorn looked up, and reaching for the other, which still held the venerable sword. Aragorn drew it back quickly, pointing the tip of the blade at the orc, who laughed hoarsely in return, reaching for it and grabbing it by the blade, yanking it out of the ranger's grip and tossing it behind him, swatting at Aragorn's head once more as he bound his hands in front of him.

Aragorn turned his head, in vague hope searching for Legolas, but he was against a tree, trying to resist being bound, three orcs set around him, one of them with his bow and quiver behind his feet. One of the orcs aimed a darting kick at Legolas' legs, and the Elf was suddenly whisked out of view entirely as he was knocked to the ground in the middle of the three.

Aragorn heard a growl in front of him, and turned his head again, glaring in fury at the orc. Behind the lackey's head appeared another orc, the one Aragorn had just threatened. A grisly smile appeared on his face as he looked back at the ranger, and he mumbled something at the orc still between them. The lackey moved out of the way hastily, seeming to be complying with a command, and the other orc, now ensuring that he was in full view, strode back over to Frodo, still struggling (wearily, now), against his captor. He froze as the other orc came in front of him. Aragorn gritted his teeth, straining to rise, but the orc drew his sword, placing the tip delicately under Frodo's chin, as he reached forward, gripping the chain around Frodo's neck and drawing the Ring out. He bridled instinctively at the light that hit his eyes, but closed his fist around it all the same, so that the cracks between his fingers glowed red in the sudden, potent darkness. He snapped the chain easily with a quick jerk, pulling it back and removing his blade.

"Thank you, you little _fool_," he said, and turned his sword, raising it and bringing the solid hilt down on Frodo's head.

"Frodo! No!" Aragorn exclaimed, leaping to his feet and almost losing his balance, flinging his bound hands out against the trunk of the tree next to him, and stumbling as the ropes slid into a horizontal slit in the side, like in the close-packed trees Aragorn had been confronted with earlier. There was a creaking noise as Aragorn's full weight was unintentionally put on them, and the ropes snapped, springing away from his wrists like a spray of watcher. 

Aragorn ran towards Frodo, but three orcs sprang up in front of him. Two grabbed him instantly, and another drew his foul blade.

"You're not going anywhere," the one with the sword hissed. "None of you are." 

***End of Part 10***


	11. The Darkness or the Light

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for all the great reviews, everyone! :o)

Cool cat 95: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're liking this story, hope you like this chapter, and what's to come. 

Tbiris: Thanks for the review! Yeah, the orcs have the Ring…dun dun DUN!! :o) I'm afraid I don't quite understand the rest of your review. What's this about Faramir? :o)

Alklachion: Thanks! Yeah, I think you may have reviewed this, or maybe one of my other stories. Your screenname is familiar-sounding to me. I'm glad you liked the Difference, and I've actually been toying with the idea of a sequel. :o) Thanks again for the review, hope you like this next part!

Anarril: How true! Esp. when it's only the second fic in a series…Still, I hope there's enough suspense in this. Suspense can be hard to write, I've found. Thanks for the review, hope you like this next part, and I hope you put up the next part of Worth of Water soon! I can't wait for it!

LatestSin: Thanks for the review! I'm glad this story cheered you up. I hope you like this next chapter. You know what's a good way to count down the days? A LOTR calendar. I have one, and the time seems to fly by ("Theoden and Wormtongue already? But Aragorn just _got_ here…) Thanks again! :o)

Mariana Nimeneth: Thanks for the review! Yes, big trouble for the fellowship! ::looks over shoulder, into the woods:: "EMBLETHOR!!! GET IN HERE! I'm thinking sequel." Emblethor: ::leaps out of the trees in a panic:: What?? Me: "Yes. And bring Lenablin." Hehe…well, anyway, thanks for the review, hope you like this next chapter. It's a mini-chapter!   

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"And in the dark he sits alone/to watch his final hours bleeding/While unconcerned upon the wall/The clock it ticks away the time," - Trans-Siberian Orchestra, "Midnight" 

Chapter 11

'The Darkness or The Light'

Frodo awoke in the darkness, his head pounding harder than ever, his body leaned up against a tree. He struggled to sit up, bettering his position, but found that rope was wound around him, so much and so tightly that he could barely move at all, and certainly couldn't sit up any better.

Suddenly, he saw a quick movement in the dark just before him, and an orc rose up, coming towards him.

"Hello, little one," the orc leaned forward, smiling calculatingly. "My name is Fradol. I've been waiting to see you again."

The orc drew his sword, now crusty with blood, holding it vertically between himself and Frodo. Just then, there was a slight crash, and Fradol stepped back, looking behind him irritably.

Naalm came into the clearing, holding Legolas at arm's length in front of him, shoving the Elf forward. Two more orcs followed behind him, holding Aragorn between them. Frodo heard a stirring directly in from of himself, and looked forward, squinting through the darkness to see Smal's burly form, leaned fretfully against the trunks of several close-packed trees, straightening up quickly.

"What took you?" he growled.

"We weren't gone that long," Naalm replied. "This Elf just put up more of a fight than he should have. He ought to be the first to go," he grabbed Legolas' shoulder roughly, slinging him down next to Boromir on the ground, making a horrid snarling noise and discharging a revolting clump of spit at his face. Legolas reached up with his bound hands this time, scraping it off his cheek on the tips of his fingers, looking up with utter hatred at Naalm as he made the gesture. Naalm drew a scarab-like dagger, turning the edge towards Legolas. He laughed huskily, his eyelids dropping to a lazy squint as he maintained his gaze at Legolas.

"Now, the fun begins," Naalm said.

Frodo leaned forward against his ropes, struggling madly, letting out a grunt of frantic frustration as the binding remained fixed and tight. Fradol came forward again, blocking Frodo's view. He leaned close, laughing a bit again, speaking copious hideous words in what sounded like Black Speech, bringing his sword up and drawing it back for a stab. Frodo gritted his teeth, giving one last push against the taut and unyielding ropes, digging his heels into the dirt for leverage.

Just then, there was a quick, disorienting white flash, and a loud screech behind Fradol. The orc started, jerking his blade up and back, cutting lightly but startlingly into the edge of Frodo's chin. Frodo let out a cry of mostly-surprise, his eyes shutting involuntarily with the wound, though he opened them again instantly, trying to see what was going on. Fradol turned around, and Frodo saw a scrawny orc standing behind him, his foot lifted and upturned. He was looking at the sole. Frodo was looking at the ground just behind it. 

"What happened?" Fradol demanded, looking in pure shock at the orc. 

"I stepped on something," the orc said. "Something burning hot."

Frodo's tongue came between his teeth as he saw a slight glow under the leaves on the ground. Only one thing could be causing that glow. Frodo looked up, seeing Smal just behind the new orc. He had shoved the Ring in a pouch hanging off of his belt, but Frodo saw that the pouch was open, the flap turned back. The Ring had fallen from his possession. It was on the ground now, covered mostly by a few leaves, its glow now a veiled consistency. This was what the little orc had stepped on, the thing that had felt so hot to his touch. And, the flash of light? Frodo's breath paused with the realization. Could the Ring have been responsible for that also? But how? Frodo's gaze shifted further upward, towards the sky, and he saw a faint spherical spot, familiarly smooth, hidden in the trunks. It wasn't the moon…

It was the sun! It wasn't as bright as it should be, but it was there, just as it had been in the lagoon, in the clearing. But the reflection had been much brighter…because the Ring hadn't yet started glowing then! The sun appeared now because the Ring was partially covered. The Ring had been completely covered in the instant that the orc had stepped on it, covering it completely. 

"I must cover the Ring!" Frodo realized with a jolt. "We must stop using the light! I must shut all light out of it."

"What could you possibly have stepped on?" Fradol's husky voice sounded, breaking alarmingly into Frodo's thoughts. Frodo looked back down at him, his fearful gaze shifting to the Ring under the leaves. He couldn't let them know that Smal had dropped it. Frodo looked up at the little orc, whose own head was turned back to the ground behind him. He was looking for the source of his pain. Desperately, Frodo let out a cry, pushing against his binding to distract. The orcs looked back at him, Fradol leaning down with his sword.

"And, what do you think you're doing?" he rasped. "Think that will help, do you?"

"Listen!" the other orc exclaimed. "Something burned me, and did you not see that flash? That light?"

Fradol wheeled around, a look of exasperation at still not being able to cut up his prey, appearing instantly on his face.

"I did," Fradol said. "And so?"

The smaller orc looked at Fradol and then Smal, at his other side.

"Do you not know what happened? Do you not know who caused it?" he said.

"Who?" Smal interrupted, a vague smirk on his face.

"Him!" the small orc said histrionically, flinging his arm out into the shadows. 

Mesmerized by fear and tension, Frodo turned his head in the direction, seeing a tall figure slumped against a tree, the long matted hair hanging down in front of him. _Gandalf_…

The little orc leaped the short distance between himself and the wizard, striking him across the face as he reached him. Gandalf looked up with the blow, as if startled. 

"Fool!" the orc growled violently. "Fool! You wish to be the first? You wish to die first?" he drew a long blade with flourish.

***End of Part 11***

Author's Note: Sorry this is such a short part! I'm having a bit of a busy time at the moment and am writing a bit slower than usual, so I just wanted to get something up for all of you, to let you know I hadn't forgotten about you all! I'm working on the next part now, it should be up soon (sooner than this one, hopefully). :o) 


	12. Found in the Light

Midnight

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for scary imagery, violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.

Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing a series of LOTR fanfics with titles that are also titles of some of the songs on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album "Beethoven's Last Night". All of the stories are going to be linked. That's right, my first series! :o) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Thanks for the great reviews, guys! :o)

Tbiris: Hehe, thanks for the review. It's just as hard in typing as in talking about Lego, huh? :o) I'm going to be keeping Faramir in mind for later stories, as well as the Galadhrim. Thanks again! 

Anarril: Thanks for the review! I'm afraid I don't know the definition to which you're referring. What is it? I love my cliffies, and I must bulk up on cliffie knowledge! Ooh! Oh! I just saw that you posted the next chapter of WoW (I really have to get on the ball…), and you're requestiong me to look at some fictionpress.net stuff. WILL DO!! :o) Thanks again for the review. Hope you like this chapter. It's the final one…

Mariana Nimeneth: ::looks at all the ice cream:: Wow! Thank you! ::presses a button in the wall of the lair that sends a conveyor belt shooting out of it, running into the cave:: You like it? I just had it installed. Thanks for the compliment, btw. The writing op has steadily improved since I got a little laptop for Christmas, I think. :o) Anyway, you can have Celeb back. She's just finishing her notes on the next big story. ::turns around and whistles for Celeb, who comes running out:: Thanks for the loan. ::grabs Emblethor by the ear:: As for you, Mister, go in the cave and get the ice cream bowls out. Then run down to Anarril's profile and get me the next chapter of WoW. I'll read it to you all while we eat. :o) ::releases him:: Oh! A house in La-La Land? It sounds divine! I have to call my real-estate agent. He's a squid named Bob. (Bob: Like me!!) ::steps back, pulling Elven rope from behind back:: Must dash! I have a mini chapter to hogtie. ::opens cage and releases final chapter of Midnight:: Namaarie!  

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Chapter 12 

"No!" Frodo cried out helplessly, the ropes tearing at the cloth of his cloak as he pushed against them, though he took no notice, as he gazed on at Gandalf, well out of his reach, the orc looming over him, waving his blade downwards.

Suddenly, Gandalf leaped to his feet, his arms springing outward, a whirring noise sounding as a wind whipped up between the wizard and the orc, so strong that it blew the perspiration back on Frodo's brow, far back to their side. The orc's blade shot out of his hand, flying back at the tree behind him. This appeared to be the limit of Gandalf's skills at the moment, as the orc reached forward with his now-free hand, clutching the wizard's thin arm, slowly forcing it back to a safe (for him) position, with no more magical, and not much else what, further resistance.

There was a shrill cry behind them then, and Frodo saw Sam leap up from the base of the tree behind the orc, the rope coils that had been sliced through with the sword when it came down, falling away as he got to his feet. The newly found blade clutched in his hand, Sam ran forward, digging it into the orc's offending arm, then staggering back, yanking the blade out as the blood began to flow from the wound. The orc yelled in pain and surprise, as he hadn't even seen Sam come up behind him, but the wound proved an effective distraction. The orc whipped around with his cry, slapping Sam across the face, sending him flying back in Frodo's direction. 

Frodo scooted up against the trunk of the tree as Sam hit the ground, to avoid letting the sword stick in his foot as Sam hit the ground, flat on his back.

"Sam!" he cried, leaning his upper half safely forward, toward his friend.

Sam turned his head slowly, then sat up quicker, coming to himself again. He looked briefly into Frodo's face, his eyes then dropping to the black ropes around his middle. He stood, shakily holding the sword out to Frodo.

"I can't," Frodo said, indicatively straining uselessly against the ropes. "You have to do it. It's alright," he added, seeing a look of anguish appear on Sam's face at these words. "Don't be scared."

Sam nodded with a gulp, turning the blade flat and bringing it gently against Frodo's chest, lowering it beneath the ropes, between them and the fabric of his shirt. Sam gave the sword a wobbly turn, making the blade diagonal as he drew it up, ultimately severing the ropes. 

Frodo leaped to his feet, looking at Sam favorably through the dark, before spotting the formidable scene that had erupted behind them. 

The remaining orcs, totaling about ten or so, had surrounded the tree Gandalf had been positioned by, and none of them looked ready to ask any more questions. Without a thought, Frodo ran towards them as Sam ran in the opposite direction. He stopped short as a larger but lither (than an orc) figure ran up past him, then halted, spinning on his heels.

"No, Frodo!" said Aragorn, looking down at him in desperation. "Stay back! Free the others!"

"I can't--," Frodo began, but ceased as Aragorn turned quickly, pulling up the orc sword Sam had given him after freeing him with it and diving into the close fray. Frodo pursed his lips, looking back at the indistinct forms of the others in the fellowship, then back at the ground before him, frantically searching for the glow of the Ring. It was behind Smal at the edge of the crowd around Gandalf's tree, inches from his callused heels.

Sucking in his breath with a hiss that was lost amid the shouts of the orcs, Frodo dove for it, as he was close enough now to reach. He snatched at the area of the glow, scooping up the Ring in a handful of dirt and bits of leaves. It was warm like a blanket on a winter evening.

Frodo closed his fingers in an unyielding fist, the dirt falling through the cracks as it became more and more compact. The chain was pooled in the hole at the center of the Ring, and this was naturally cold as metal that has lain alone on the ground. Frodo forced his fist tighter, letting out a grunt of aggravation. The chain grew warm with his hand. Frodo clamped his other hand tight over the fist, and there was a sudden, swelling burning sensation in his hand, growing hotter and hotter. Frodo panted in agitation, finally crying out with the pain. He became aware of the movement ceasing in front of where he lay, sprawled, on the ground. He looked up hesitantly, unclasping his hand around the Ring and its chain, his eyes meeting Aragorn's. The ranger's face held vaguely distinct confusion, but this was suddenly blocked out in a world of solid white. Frodo squeezed his eyes shut, the lids blocking it out in a shade of pallid tan. 

His ears began to ring with the panicked shouts of the orcs, and the ground beneath him shook with hurried, heavy footfalls. Frodo forced his eyes open, squinting against the too-powerful daylight surrounding him. The milky figures of the orcs plodded fleetly past behind his head, some of them swinging their weapons out unseeingly with one hand, the other trying desperately to shroud their eyes from the sunlight. Aragorn rushed into Frodo's view then, bringing a hardly-visible sword up, hewing an orc's head clean off. It landed with a reverberating thud next to Frodo's ear. Frodo turned his head in hazy revulsion, sitting up with difficulty, his eyes growing more used to the light, though the morning sky seemed still to glow an overpowering white. The rumbling of the orcs' footfalls now became distant, and Frodo turned to see what few orcs were still alive (perhaps four) were running away, off into the trees. Speechless, he looked back at Aragorn, who was kneeling with his back to him, towards the tree that had been enveloped in the fray. The ranger scooted back on his heels, looking back at Frodo and the others behind him in amazement. Frodo could make out Gandalf, sitting against the tree trunk again, the contrasting dark spots on his head, chest, and leg dwindling slowly, shrinking away. Suddenly regaining life, Frodo scrambled forward, looking on in amazement as the wizard's wounds shrank and shrank. Frodo clutched the now-cool Ring nervously in his hand, his burn nipping at him in protest at the pressure. Frodo looked down, opening his hand in time to see the shining, raw burn metamorphose into the pale pink normal skin of his palm, the cuts he'd received across his fingers above it, closing up as the dried blood vanished. There was a soft brushing noise behind him, and Frodo turned around to see Legolas kneel beside him, his fair hand laid lightly on the knee of his no-longer injured leg as he gazed at Gandalf.

"The light," Legolas whispered. "The light…"

Gandalf stood slowly, leaning first on the trunk of the tree for support, then slowly withdrawing his hand, looking about at the others. His eyes fell on Frodo and his outstretched hand and its contents. 

"Frodo," he murmured. "What happened? Was it the Ring?"

Frodo nodded slowly. 

Sam put his hand on Frodo's shoulder as he crawled up next to him, touching his fingers to his lips as the cut that had been there closed up.

"What's happening?" he whispered, his eyes falling on Frodo's right hand.

"The Ring," Frodo said vaguely. "_It_ stopped the light."

"And, it was hurting us also?" Sam said.

"The orcs were what hurt us, Samwise," Gandalf spoke quietly. "Though, perhaps it was the darkness that brought them, and perhaps it is the light that now brings our fortune."

He brushed his fingers vaguely up to his temple, now healed and smooth, then looked back past Aragorn, at Boromir, rising shakily, tentatively leaning on the leg that had plagued him so long. A smile spread slowly across the man's face, and he strode back to the others, coming to stand next to Gimli, Merry, and Pippin, who had been cut free by Legolas after he'd been freed by Sam.

"We are free?" Boromir said softly.

"We are," Gandalf replied. "We are through here."

**********

Gandalf sat lightly on the rock, looking through the surrounding protective hedges at the yellow sky of late afternoon. The sun was setting slowly before his eyes, and soon, the fellowship would take off into the darkness. 

Gandalf hadn't rested any more than he was now, all day. He had barely been able to shut his eyes, once they grew used to the light, for he found the light wonderfully heartening now. It was the search for comfort that mostly kept him looking at the now-sharply visible surroundings, though there was a sense of troubled curiosity in his mind that kept his eyes open as well. 

Gandalf's right hand, balled into a fist, tensed sporadically as he sat and watched. In it, he felt the hard smooth form of Narya. Narya the Great. 

The Ring of Fire, set with a ruby, bestowed on him as a secret. He knew that he had to keep it hidden at all costs. He couldn't tell anyone that it was in his possession, and he could not wear it freely. He had followed these guidelines well for a long time, but in these past vexing hours, he had finally broken from them. And now, he wished he hadn't. 

Narya was a very powerful ring, and, aside from the One Ring, was one of the three most desired by Sauron. And like the One, it had to be kept out of his hands. The possibility to use it had not occurred until after he'd woken from being battered into unconsciousness by orcs, but when it had, Gandalf had soon refused it in his mind, though it hadn't been pushed out at all. The picture of the Ring, with its ruby shining red, had stayed on the edge of his thoughts since then, and when he'd raised his head slowly and looked up through the trees, seeing Frodo's flailing, desperate form held up between the burly orcs, the One Ring being torn from his possession, Gandalf had felt that he had no choice. For, if Sauron got the Ring, all would be lost. 

Gandalf had lifted his hand, unrestrained by his captors because of his previous condition, and snatched out Narya, putting it on his finger, extending his arm. He was prepared, he was ready--but nothing happened.

He had not been able to use Narya at all. It was as if the power had been drained out of the ring with the darkness coming. He'd brought his hand back down quickly at the time, slipping the ring out of sight, but he was greatly rattled, and slightly careless with his movement. One of the orcs guarding them had turned, coming back over and giving him a good blow to his shoulder, stunning him a bit and scraping the back of his head against the tree he'd been sitting against. But he hadn't forgotten.

The ring he now held in his hand held power. He could feel it. It seemed to have come back with the light, just as their own health had come back with it, too. The others seemed to think that the light was all good, the darkness, the only evil. But this evidence with Narya forced Gandalf to reason that the curse of the darkness had not at all been merely a slight hindrance on the part of the orcs, or even Saruman, or some slight enemy. It took more than a whim to stop up a ring of power. 

Though the light may have been a reward of a kind, a liniment to their situation, Gandalf knew that these troubles were nowhere near an end. Their enemy was greater than a bang of ragtag orcs, even perhaps led by Saruman. And it was not finished with them yet.

Gandalf blinked in surprise at his suddenly-blue surroundings. The sun had gone down, and he hadn't even seen it happen. He rose noiselessly, leaning on his staff more for security than support as he turned to go and collect the others.

***The End***

Author's Note: I've put up Fate, the next story in this series, along with this chapter. There's an important announcement at the end of it, and as always, I'd love some reviews. :o) Thanks everyone who review this story. I've loved the reviews, they've fueled me in times when I might not even have fired-up the computer. :o) 


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